


I Thought You Were Dead

by bilittlebarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Captain Hydra, Fluff and Angst, Hydra Steve Rogers, M/M, Plot Twists, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Burn, Stucky - Freeform, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 28,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilittlebarnes/pseuds/bilittlebarnes
Summary: "Who the hell is Bucky?"Steve Rogers gets captured by HYDRA. When he arrives, he sees the last person he'd think he'd see...The Winter Soldier. His Bucky.
Relationships: Captain America/The Winter Soldier, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 40
Kudos: 76





	1. Bucky?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my first fanfic on AO3 and I'm trying to live up to the expectations :0 so please go easy on me hehe. Hope you enjoy! :3 (By the way I'm not amazing at writing romantic stuff but I'll try.) Probably will be new updates weekly.

Captain America was marched through the halls of HYDRA relentlessly, a stony expression fixed on his face. He had been stripped of his shield, and anything that could potentially mean his escape. Thick metal chains glinted up at the ceiling, laughing at Steve as he was dragged, the light beams reflecting off the walls. The HYDRA agents conversed suspiciously in Russian, shooting the Captain untrusting glances as he allowed himself to be taken hostage. They were waiting for him to lash out back at them, to rip himself out of their vice-like grip.

But he did nothing.

They reached the end of the hallway and wrenched open a heavy titanium door. In the back of his mind, Steve wondered what they were hiding. Trying to keep in, or out? It groaned, hinges straining and screaming as the door was forced open against its will. The room inside was entirely black, and as the HYDRA thugs holding Steve shoved him inside, still gripping his arms, a light flickered on.

"Captain. How great to see you. How nice of you to join us." A voice with a Russian accent said triumphantly. Its owner was a man was standing with his back to them, and a large dark shadow was still as a statue behind him. Steve couldn't make out what it was, but it could've been simply a piece of equipment in the room full of tall, smoking tanks. But a feeling gnawing in his gut told him it wasn't.

Slowly the man turned around, and Steve noticed there was a large scar across his right eye. "I believe that you will find this an interesting reunion," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"I haven't met any of you," Steve said gruffly.

"Maybe you haven't realised that yet." A chilling smile slowly spread across his face, stubble making it appear harsher in the dim light. Steve couldn't shake the feeling that something dangerous was watching him.

He snapped his fingers, the sound ripping through the tense, frosty air. "Soldat. Come here." The dark shape that Steve was wary about began to move, walking forward and into the small puddle of light. It was another man, shoulder-long dark brown hair framing his face, the lower half covered by a black mask. His cold icy blue eyes stared at Steve, something flitting through them like ghosts. He stood like someone who knew he was powerful, but yet under control by someone else, submissive but dangerous. Steve's eyebrows knitted together; something about his eyes seemed familiar.

The leader, Steve supposed, smirked and beckoned for the soldier to come to him. "Take off your mask, Soldat. Show the Captain who you are." A deep pit of dread yawned open inside Steve as the man slowly reached up to pull the muzzle-like mask off his lower face. He dropped it with a clatter and Steve felt like his legs would collapse.

"Bucky?" he gasped, voice squeaking, mouth dropping with utter surprise. "I-I thought you-you were dead." He trembled and his knees really did lock and he crashed to the ground. Suddenly he was back in the other HYDRA base he stormed in Austria, and Bucky was there strapped to the gurney, various scalpels and syringes laid out on a tray next to him.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" he replied, confusion screaming in his eyes, wraiths swarming through them.

"Wh-"

"Take him away," the leader said calmly. Steve wanted to thrash, to slaughter everyone in the base to get to Bucky, to keep him safe and to just even have Bucky recognise him. But he only just knelt there, paralysed with shock.

"W-wait!" Steve shouted. Bucky's empty face turned to him slightly, a fraction of an inch. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, Captain," the leader smiled, mouth not matching his eyes. "Just to see you fall."

***

Steve once again let himself be yanked along to his cell, the guards shoving him in and slamming the (also) titanium door. Trudging over to the bench, Steve sank down and tried to drag his hands through his hair, but his chains restricted him.

"Bucky," he murmured to himself. "What did they do to him?" The guards delivered meals once a day at different times, stale bread and muddy water which smelled funny. He refused both, wondering how long the Super Soldier Serum could sustain him instead of eating, knowing there would be drugs. Hours, possible days slogged past, Steve not knowing how long. Hunger chewed at his stomach and his heart ached, his mind convincing himself he would get himself and Bucky out of this hell.

If only the Avengers could see him now.

Eventually after he truly began to drown in his sorrow, he took the drugged water the next time it arrived and knocked it back.

***

"Y'know, Stevie, you can always stay with me," Bucky's voice said warmly, his hand touching Steve's shoulder. Suddenly he was an 18 year old kid in Brooklyn, and Bucky was standing next to him again. "I'm with you 'till the end of the line, Pal."

_'Till the end of the line._

Forever, they promised.

Steve felt himself smile up at Bucky, and Bucky smiled back, lighting up his face. His pure joy spread to Steve as it always did, but when he went to hug him Bucky, he pushed him back. Steve stumbled back, and when he looked up again Bucky was wearing that face mask and the black vest he had been clad in when Steve saw him in the dark room.

The leader of HYDRA appeared like smoke behind Bucky, grinning like a skull. 

"The Winter Soldier never fails!" he shouted. "You are his next target, Captain."

"Bucky, this isn't you..." Steve whispered.

"I don't know who you are," the Winter Soldier growled, and began to advance, flipping a six inch knife in his gloved hand. Steve tried to struggle backwards but it felt like his legs were lead and he was trying to move through superglue. Just as the Soldier reached up to plunge the blade through his chest, Steve woke with a gasp, drenched with sweat. What had meant to be sleep to distract him from imprisonment had turned into a nightmare he desperately hoped would not come true.

"Get up," one of the guards snapped in a thick accent. Steve shook all over, the dream still fresh in his memory. He wondered what HYDRA had in store for him next.


	2. The Winter Soldiers

"Hurry up," the guard snarled, shoving Steve forward while two others flanked him. They led him back to where he had arrived the first day, in that shadowy room brimming with smoking tanks which billowed mist.

"Ah, Captain," the leader smiled as Steve was thrust through the door. "I hope you enjoyed our welcoming ritual. Rather exciting, isn't it?"

"What-do-you- _want?_ " Steve almost shouted raggedly. "Where is Bucky?"

"Our Soldier, you mean? He is currently in cryosleep, ready for when we next need of him."

"He's not a robot! You can't treat him like that!"

"Funny you say that, Captain. Look what you did for the Allies all those years ago."

"That's because I _chose_ to," Steve implored desperately. "You're not _giving_ him a choice."

"Should I care? Because I don't. He is a weapon, the fist of HYDRA. He is not a person and does not deserve to be treated like one," the leader said coldly, holding his arms behind his back.

"Who even do you think you _are?_ " he yelled, straining at his shackles.

"I am Vasily Karpov," the man replied. "Your new leader."

"What?"

"You are going to become our new weapon, Captain. You and the Soldier shall fight together so HYDRA can finally accomplish its goal." The guards once again grabbed Steve's arms and wrenched him towards a chair with large clamps on the armrests and a strange complicated contraption above Steve's head. Steve didn't know why he wasn't resisting. The levers began to lower, clunking as they clamped down onto the sides of Steve's temples. He began to shiver violently as he felt the machine power up, and-

"Stop."

Karpov looked up from the control panel.

"Soldat, what are you doing," he snarled. "Why isn't he in cryosleep? Someone get him in _now_."

"No-Bucky!" Steve choked, clenching his fists and trying to rip them out of the cuffs attached to the metal chair.

"It won't work, Captain, they're designed for someone especially like you."

"What are you trying to do, Buck?" Steve gasped, struggling to tear the titanium cuffs.

"Don't do it." Bucky said quietly, eyes focused on Karpov, who's choices were flickering over his face uncertainly. 

"Why, Soldat?" Bucky said nothing but continued to stare at him.

"Please, I'll help you anyway as long as you don't hurt Bucky." Steve heard a voice that sounded awfully like himself beg. He realised that would mean betraying the Avengers and the rest of the world just for Bucky, but he didn't feel much remorse or regret, oddly. Karpov paused for a moment.

"Anything. I won't let you turn me into a mindless machine." To prove his point, Steve snapped the restraints and lurched out of the seat, tripping over to Bucky. Karpov watched icily as he gently touched Bucky's shoulder, who flinched slightly. He jerked his hand away and looked into Bucky's eyes.

"Do you not want me to touch you?" he asked softly. Bucky didn't respond and when his blue-grey eyes bored back into Steve's own, he saw pain rippling in them.

"I don't think the Winter Soldier likes physical contact other than fighting, Captain," Karpov leered smugly. "If he doesn't want you to join him, then you won't. But if you refuse to comply, we will destroy everything you hold dear. Two soldiers who would do anything for each other is a good combination."

Steve almost retorted, "I'm not a soldier," but he knew he still was. _Would Bucky do anything for him?_ he wondered. _Yes, he would_ , a small voice inside his head shot back. Even if he didn't remember him, Steve still believed Bucky did know who he was deep down. His heart shattered to think that Bucky would completely forget him, but he had faith. That faith had gotten into trouble before, and no doubt would it again. His neck was open wide, practically begging for a fist around it. Steve knew he was choking on pride, thinking he could save Bucky. He wouldn't stop at anything if it meant he could try.

"What do you want me to do?" Steve shuddered out. A smile crept onto Karpov's face like spiders scuttling to prey. 

"I want you to start training. With him and the rest of the Winter Soldier team. Now." he nodded to Bucky, who was still stone cold and unmoving. "And hurry. I want progress."

"Bucky," Steve said as they walked down the halls to wherever they were supposed to train. "What do you remember?"

"Remember?" he stated blankly. 

"You know, uh... of us. Back when... you know."

"I don't understand." Steve felt his heart crack, threatening to splinter into smithereens.

"Never mind." Bucky blinked back at him, tilting his head. 

Steve heaved out a sigh, knowing it would be so hard to be around Bucky and have him not remember who he was. They reached the end of the dark hallway, still surrounded by guards hoisting up large machine guns in their hands. Karpov punched in a code into the keypad next to the door, which slid open soundlessly, unlike the other door, which had obviously been there for a while.

"Training here in the Winter Soldier program means you two must spar until you can beat each other in less than ten seconds." Karpov folded his arms over his chest, standing stock still in front of Steve and Bucky.

 _That's pointless,_ Steve thought dully. _We'll learn each other's fighting styles and what if there's someone better than us?_

"Together, you will be unstoppable." There was a glint beginning to form in Karpov's eye. "HYDRA will finally take its rightful place in the world. Soldat, show him how to spar."

"I know how to-"

"Don't. Talk back to me, Captain." he glowered.

"We will need to get a costume change for him, sir," a scientist dressed in a white lab coat whispered. She brushed off a ruby speck, smearing it further across the fabric.

"I will take care of that later. And you must repaint the shield. Find him some quarters."

"I'm right here, you know," Steve muttered, low enough so they couldn't hear him. Bucky, however, snapped to look at him, eyes horrified.

"Teach him some manners, Soldat. Get to it. We don't have all the time in the world." Karpov waved a hand dismissively.

With that, Bucky lunged at Steve, landing a blow to his stomach before he could retaliate. 

"Bucky, I don't want to hurt you," Steve panted as he dodged a punch thrown by his metal arm and twisted so he was gripping Bucky's flesh arm behind his back. They landed on the floor, both scrambling for a better position and grappling for the upper hold.

 _"You_ hurting him wasn't part of the deal, Captain," Karpov called, noting something down on a clipboard. "If I recall correctly, it was _us_ not being able to hurt him."

"Shut UP!" Steve roared, grasping Bucky in his arms until he elbowed his neck somehow. He released him, and Bucky was on his feet in a flash and stamping on his instep. He bit back a gasp and struggled to stand up as Bucky rushed at him like a train, ploughing him down and flipping him onto his back.

"Out of practice?" Karpov smiled. "This is what our training sessions are for. Keep going."  
  


"I wasn't done," Steve grunted, and swept his ankle at Bucky's feet, knocking him over. He crashed onto the concrete, trying to shield his head from the impact. Steve saw it just a fraction too late and dove down to scoop him up. Steve landed on his knees, shock running through his legs, but he knew it was worth it as Bucky was cradled in his arms, unconscious. "Bucky-Bucky are you alright?" Steve said frantically, checking his pulse on his neck just to be safe. "No, _no_... did I hurt you?" He could feel Karpov's gaze burning into his back but he didn't care. His eyelids fluttered, and a low groan forced its way out of Bucky's mouth. Steve sighed in relief, cupping his cheek for a moment before realising where and when he was.

"Steve?" Bucky slurred. 

"It's me, Buck," he breathed.

"Are you here to kill me, Captain?" he said blearily. Steve's heart sank like the Titanic when he realised Bucky still didn't remember him. 

"No. I would never want to hurt you, Buck." He wanted to cry, to scream his sadness to the heavens until something made him know that he was his best friend, his everything, someone he would die for and walk through hell over and over and over again, just so he would be safe. Steve tried to paint a smile onto his face for him, but he knew it was watery and echoed of heartache, grief and misery. He knew he should be grateful that Bucky was _alive_ , but it hurt so much to see him and see the oblivion written across his features.

"He needs a nurse," Steve announced, looking up from Bucky's dazzled eyes. He thought to himself about how this would probably be the last time he would let him get close.

"Our nurse is currently occupied." A twisted expression clouded over Karpov's face, disapproval etched in every corner. "Is this love, Captain?"

"N-" he paused, frowning. "N-no. He's my best friend. I want to help him."

"Then help him yourself."

So Steve gently lifted a murmuring Bucky up from the ground, carrying him from the room in search of a place where he could take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying the story so far! Kudos is much appreciated :) And thanks for so many reads already! It means a lot :D


	3. Taking Care

He awoke to someone sponging his abdominals, and when he snapped his eyes open he could only see a blurry layer of something white. He wrestled himself up in a flurry, throwing a punch at whoever was-

"Buck!" he heard a familiar voice gasp. He ripped the cloth off his face to discover it was just a flannel, and he saw Steve Rogers scrambling back in surprise, clutching a washcloth. He looked down at himself to see himself shirtless, a map of scars crisscrossing his torso and crawling up his shoulder to where his metal arm met flesh. Bruises snarled up at him, gnarled and twisted like his shrivelled soul, fresh cuts stretching across his muscles like a plague trying to grip his empty heart. He shivered slightly as Steve's eyes flicked up and down him, angling his body so his metal arm was shrouded in shadows. "Are you okay?" 

Steve was slowly approaching him, holding his hand out cautiously as though he was a startled horse. He would never be who Steve wanted him to be, never be the person he once and still loved. He was just a shell. He was not Bucky. He wanted to be, because he could see the sheer hope in his eyes whenever he looked at him. He didn't know him, but his heart still ached somewhere deep inside, and he had stopped Karpov from turning his brain into mush. He didn't know why. He was the Winter Soldier, a weapon, and as he had been told, _weapons do not weep._

He let Steve gingerly dip the washcloth into a small bowl and pat at his injuries, earning a small hiss from him. Steve murmured an apology, briefly glancing up into his eyes before returning to his task. He let Steve think that he hissed because of the alcohol in the cleansing liquid, not from his touch. There was a lot of things he let Steve do.

He focused on Steve's face, the way it was stretched in concentration of not hurting him, how his blue eyes widened every time he stared at his stomach for too long. 

"Are you okay, Buck?" he asked quietly, tilting his chin up at him. He had a strange, fleeting memory of a much smaller teenager doing the same thing, a small smile on his face. He nodded in response, unable to say anything. He didn't _know_ what to say. Steve was so easy, so calm and loving and caring. He didn't deserve a monster who couldn't even place out who he was. He couldn't even remember his own name, although Steve stubbornly insisted on calling him Bucky. What else would he call him? Soldier? Soldat?

"Bucky... you know you can talk, right?" Steve was silenced as he suddenly reached out and pressed his human palm against his chest. "Bucky?" Steve said in a hushed tone, heat spreading across his neck, a blush blooming. He could feel his heartbeat. It was steady for a moment but a fraction of a second after he had touched him, pace quickening until he could feel it thumping against his hand agitatedly. He looked up at Steve, warm blue eyes meeting his own, and he noticed his face was beet red, scarlet blossoming on every patch of visible skin.

Tentatively Steve gently flattened his own hand against his heart, and he inhaled sharply, almost hating the effect this man had on him. Yet at the same time, he shut his eyes, allowing himself to feel the swell of his heart drumming against Steve's palm, bliss rolling over him in waves. Never in seventy years had he felt such peace and calm, safety pulsing from the presence of him simply sitting there. He heard someone release a small content sigh, and noticed a gaze burning into him. He flicked open his eyes to see Steve gaping at him, so he realised he had been the one to swoon like a lovesick maiden. He scowled inwardly, disapproving of himself to fall so deep in him. No one had ever successfully done this to him, since no one had either cared or gotten past his stone walls. Maybe someone had, before. Somewhere inside him a voice told him that a certain person had wiggled past his guard and snuggled next to his heart for a long, long time, simply slumbering and waiting for him to awaken.

"Can... can I h-" He looked up to see Steve struggling to say something.

"What?" his own voice was low and gravelly, slightly sultry for some reason. He almost growled at himself in frustration. He obviously couldn't remember the last time he'd thought of something so absurd. Steve's face brightened considerably for a moment before he returned to his inner conflict.

"Uh-Is it okay if I... Never mind." he broke off and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks reddening again. Something benign fluttered inside his chest, ironically, which he turned away at the thought of.

"Tell me," he almost snarled huskily, a protective front sweeping in, glowering like a storm with eyes. Steve's expression shifted to something he couldn't read or decipher, but for some cause he looked a little pleased. He didn't understand why he looked happy to be pushed around, but he did it some more anyway. He gripped his shoulder with his metal arm, squeezing it a little so he could get the message.

"Um..." Steve cast his gaze to his still bare torso, eyes lingering on it for more than deemed appropriate. "I was wondering-"

"Wondering what?" he said gutturally. Steve bit his lip.

"If I could have a hug?" Something inside him shattered a little. He dipped his head and scooted over a little so Steve could hug him. Surprisingly, he sat in his lap and wrapped his legs around his waist and threw his arms around him. He couldn't reciprocate; he didn't know how to. Even if he wanted to. So he sat there and let Steve hug him, burying his face in his long hair. He heard a small sniffle, which he pretended not to hear for his sake. Steve's heat flooded around him, a cocoon in which he bathed, relishing his scent and closeness. It filled the crater inside him a little, and yet again he let a sigh escape his lips. Steve's fingers threaded through his hair, and he thought that something warm and soft press lightly against his head.

"It's longer than I remember it," he murmured. "I want to tie it up in a bun." He could feel Steve's smile, which radiated compassion.

"I don't have a hair tie," his voice cracked a bit.

"I'll find you one," Steve said determinedly. He thought for a moment.

"Okay."

"And if you want I can give you a haircut. Only if you want." Personally, he wanted to get rid of any evidence that HYDRA had kept him like a dog on a leash for all these years, so a haircut would be a good way to start. "When I get you out of here."

"But I don't remember you," he croaked hoarsely, almost unable to get the words out.

"I don't care," Steve said savagely. "I'm gonna get you out, Buck, and I know you'll remember."

 _Will I?_ he wondered. _Do I want to remember?_

 _Yes,_ that voice said firmly. _You would do anything for him._

_I know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for so many reads already! <3 Hope you're enjoying it. Please comment and leave kudos (thanks so much to those who have already! I REALLY appreciate it! :D)


	4. Uniform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the fluff because now there will be pain >:) (aka a little less fluff, sorry. But who knows?) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy! :D Kudos is appreciated.

Steve's eyelids fluttered open for a moment before he squeezed them shut again, soaking in the warmth of Bucky in his arms. He groaned underneath him, and as he came to realise that someone was hugging his waist, he flinched and almost threw Steve off him.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed, brushing Bucky's hair out of his face. His eyes were wild, Steve thinking sadly that he must of been chased by demons in his sleep.

"You're not after me, are you?" he gasped in deep lungfuls of air.

"No, Buck. I'm not," Steve sucked in a breath, almost physically hurt at the mere prospect that Bucky thought he was trying to hurt him or control him in some way. He muttered something incoherent under his breath. "What?"

"They're coming," Bucky mumbled, glancing up at the door just in time. Steve twisted around to see Karpov staring disapprovingly at them.

"Enough. I think you've taken care of him for plenty of time, Captain," Karpov scoffed. "I want you two in the training hall as soon as possible. And get off each other. You're not monkeys." Steve frowned deeply, about to lash back, before Bucky tapped his knee quickly, shaking his head. He took it that he'd done it before and obviously the consequences had not been lenient. Steve almost felt a smile spread across his face, in spite of the circumstances, because Bucky didn't want him to get in trouble. Normally this wouldn't have been a big deal. In fact, it would have been completely and utterly standard, them having done it practically every day before everything happened. And to think now, that Steve was elated that Bucky simply tapped him on his _knee_. That was how truly desperate he was, and now he thought of it, it was kind of depressing. 

After Karpov slammed the door behind him, Steve sat up, yawning, and actually took a moment to see where he was. He was so ready to get Bucky safe and clean him up that he didn't realise where he had taken them. He had just open the first empty door with a bed that he had seen. Bucky rolled his shoulders, also quickly glancing around the room, which was painted a bare white and filled with a scratched table, the only other furniture apart from the bed. 

"Um, better, uh, get your top on," Steve stuttered shyly. 

"It's not a top," Bucky said dully. However, he didn't say it in a rude tone, so Steve just picked the large vest off the ground, wincing at how intimate they must have looked, and handed it stiffly to Bucky. 

"Uh, do you want me to turn around or-"

"No, doesn't matter, you've seen me already." Bucky shrugged it on as Steve tried-and failed-to tear his eyes away. 

"Sorry," he muttered, red furling across his face. Bucky cocked his head at him, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. Steve felt his gaze sweep over him, unable to tell if it was in appreciation or in some sort of recognition. He didn't think it was either of them, though, knowing Bucky's current state. "I think we should maybe get going before Karpov slaughters us," he joked. Bucky's expression darkened, like a storm cloud passing over.

"We should, before he does," he said, completely seriously. They both quickly stepped out of the door, and then strode down to the training hall, Bucky leading the way. As they entered, Karpov tutted, shaking his head.

"Five minutes late, Soldat, Captain. Oh, we have fixed your uniform for you, so it is more suited to our cause. Would you mind trying them on?" He tilted his chin to the side, implying that it wasn't an option.

"Of course," Steve replied through gritted teeth. "Where do you want me?" Bucky twitched noticeably next to him, so violently that Steve turned to him.

"Are you alright, Buck?" he asked concernedly, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. Bucky trembled so hard Steve's arm shook.

"F-fine," he grunted.

"If you say so," he said uncertainly.

"Over here, Captain," Karpov grimaced at their interaction. Steve obediently followed him to where he pointed; a steel table that had a box perched on it. Karpov lifted the lid off with a flourish and a yellow smile that didn't bring good news. He peered inside the box and raised a dark, black pile of material out. A flash of blood red peeked out at them. "Try it on, if you will."

"Here?" Steve glanced around him, noting the doctors and guards scattered everywhere. His eye fell on Bucky, who was shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"Yes, here," Karpov snapped. "We won't look." He saw him shoot a wink at Bucky and Steve almost ripped his head off. _MY Bucky,_ he thought possessively laced with anger, before starting at his own ponderings. Why on Earth would he think that? 

He unfolded the material as Karpov-who motioned for the agents in the room to look elsewhere-twisted away and almost choked as he saw what the material was. It was an almost exact replica of the Captain America suit he had been wearing for the past days (the guards had not bothered to give him other clothes, only disarming anything that could be useful) except instead of the star on his chest, it was the HYDRA symbol-the scarlet skull with eight tentacles reaching out like a parasite. Karpov sensed him gaping at the uniform and not doing anything, so he scowled and told him to move.

Steve waited for him to become ignorant (somewhere in his mind he thought he could attack him now while he had the chance, although that would mean Bucky's possible death with all the armed guards) before shucking off his old suit and scrambling into his new one. He felt a pang in his heart; he loved being Captain America, and now he was giving it all up. He didn't regret his choice, however. It meant he could be with Bucky, even if he didn't remember him, and even if it was under these circumstances. Steve discerned Bucky's observance of him, blushing twice as more at the thought.

When he struggled to button up some of the straps, reaching behind himself, he felt someone slowly approach him and begin to tighten them for him. Steve froze, whipping his neck around to see Bucky gently tug on the buckles. There was something glinting under his collar, something silver under the harsh light.

"Bucky," Steve said softly, swivelling on the heel of his boots. "What's that?" He gingerly reached out and peeled away his collar, and discovered that it was some sort of necklace. He inhaled sharply as he realised it was his dog tags. He didn't know how he didn't see them before, honestly. Maybe he was concentrating too hard on Bucky's scars or something.

Bucky looked down at the tags, fingering them and running his thumbs over the engraving. They weren't as pristine as they were when he got them-now scratched and blackened, a few chips here and there. 

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 32557038. Date of Birth, March 10th, 1917. Does that not ring a bell?" Steve lifted them off his chest and read them out loud. Bucky shook his head, although his mouth parted slightly and he stared at Steve's neck.

"Where's yours?" Steve smiled and dragged his fingers under his new uniform and fished out his own tags. One of the tags said 'Steven Grant Rogers' and his number and birthday, while the other had Bucky's spare tag.

"Do you still have my spare tag on your chain?"

"You mean this one?" Bucky murmured, picking out the second tag on his chain. "Wouldn't that mean-"

"That it would be hard for the poor person trying to identify us?" Steve chuckled. "I remember once someone found you unconscious for some reason, and they asked you 'How you got a huge gash on your thigh, Mr Rogers'. And then they called the real me and I picked you up and-" He broke off mid-sentence.

"What happened?" he asked.

Steve sent him a watery smile. "Not much." He twiddled a small strap on his waist, remembering why they were here. Shattering the moment, Karpov cleared his throat loudly, an eyebrow raised.

"That was a lot of talking," he pursed his lips. "Don't let it happen again. We have your shield, Captain. But, of course, we can't let you hold it. Unless you risk your friend's life." He snapped his fingers, beckoning for an agent to come forward. She was carrying the shield. And it was also... changed. Replacing the star was the HYDRA symbol, yet again, seemingly coating the shield in blood in the harsh glow of the light. "We were thoughtful enough, to have a button that changes the appearance of both the shield and the uniform when you're undercover, our double agent." The assistant pressed something on the underside of the shield, and the HYDRA parasite melted away to the original Captain America paint job, the star shining mischievously, as if it knew it hid a secret. "In that pocket there's a button that does the same for your uniform." 

Steve flipped open the tab holding the pocket together and stretched a finger inside, and watched as the uniform bled into a perfect replica of his old one. He didn't change it back, feeling a lot more comfortable in his own colours.

"What's the mission?" he questioned, voice gravelly.

"Kill the Avengers, Captain."


	5. Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little bit shorter this time. Please leave kudos and thank you so much!! :D <3333

"Kill-kill the Avengers?" Steve felt as though his chest was about to expand until it burst, like he had run all around the world three thousand times-without stopping.

"You did tell us you were ours to command as long as we didn't touch your Bucky," Karpov said coolly. He couldn't reply to that; he had agreed. Would he really murder his partners-and friends-so Bucky could stay safe?

"I don't-" he stammered.

"No, you will," Karpov replied, tone indifferent. His harsh gaze fell on Bucky, pressing the point. Steve inched in front of him, angling himself so he was protecting him from anything that could possible come his way.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly, bowing his head. He could feel Bucky's eyes burning into his back.

"No you shouldn't St-" Bucky began to say something. He turned back towards him, searching for recognition in his stare. He wished that he would remember. He knew he couldn't pressure him, or be rude; it wasn't his fault. But Steve wished things could go back to normal. How they used to be. But that would never happen, and they both knew it. On the bright side, (which he tried to see every day) Bucky had almost called him Steve. The first step into the light.

"You will be assisting him, Soldat," Karpov interrupted. "And unless you want to see him die too, then you will cooperate." Steve watched the options flicker over Bucky's face like phantoms, so brief he could only just tell they were there. 

"Yes, sir," Bucky mumbled.

"I want you to keep training. It's you too against five and SHIELD, and these people are threats. You must do whatever it takes to stop them. I don't care." Steve nodded grimly in response. "Spar. Now." They both sighed collectively and lanced into fighting once more.

Steve avoided doing anything that would possibly injure Bucky seriously, although Karpov could see both of them holding back slightly. Bucky was going further than him, but Steve only defended himself against his ongoing attacks, never striking back to play offence himself. It went on like this for hours, a lethal dance between the two super soldiers, each careful at the same time as so not to hurt each other too much. Sweat dribbled down his back, dampening his new outfit, effort from avoiding Bucky's kicks and punches draping over him like a blanket. Karpov yawned as they purposely tried to lose after endless bantering.

"How about actually trying?" he snapped eventually, growing tired.

"Last time that-"

 _"Do it!"_ he roared. Bucky's eyes hardened and he charged forward with renewed strength. Steve knew he wanted to please Karpov, deep down. Steve ducked under his swing and hesitated a moment too long as Bucky barrelled down on him, knocking him over like a bowling pin. They wrestled on the cold concrete floor, Bucky squeezing him around his lungs so he began gasping for air. "Good, good," Karpov stroked his chin in approval as Bucky continued to apply pressure. "Release him, Soldat, before he suffocates." Immediately his arms left Steve's chest, and he coughed a few times before struggling to his feet again.

Karpov looked down at him with disdain from his elevated seat. "I know you can do better. I've seen your work at New York. It was impressive. Don't forget all the HYDRA and Nazi bases you eliminated during the war. Now _that_ was wondrous. Even if it was the end of Red Skull. But sometimes you need a new beginning. Cut of one head, two more will take its place."

"I know, I know," he muttered, raising his fists again and standing in front of Bucky.

"Keep going, Captain. _Try_ this time." So him and Bucky went at it again.

It always ended up with Bucky on top in some sort of way, a strange expression twisted on his face. Every time he won he quickly freed Steve and scrambled away from him, something glowing in his eyes that he couldn't comprehend.

After four more hours of this, Steve was relieved when Karpov finally called off their training, shaking his head as he left. Steve and Bucky retreated back down the corridor, and as he opened the door to the room they had stayed the previous night.

"No," Bucky said softly, just audible so Steve could hear him.

"No what?" he asked, hope sputtering out. He desperately wanted Bucky close to him, even if it was selfish. 

"I-I can't-it brings back... things. I can't stay," Bucky faltered, tripping over his words. 

"Why? I can help you," Steve whispered, gently laying his hand over Bucky's own. He didn't miss his twitch.

"Sorry," he breathed, and jerkily walked to the door next to Steve.

"Uh, I'll be here if you need me?" Steve sounded like he was questioning himself. Bucky dipped his chin curtly before vanishing. _He's only one wall away_ , he told himself. Yet one wall felt like a million miles. They could not have been further.

He lay awake in bed that night after nibbling some bread and then spitting it out, knowing they would have at least thirty doses of drugs to beat his system. Thoughts of Bucky swam through his mind, of days they no longer had. When was the last time he had truly smiled? God, how much he missed it. The small brightening of his lips that made Steve's world explode every time he unleashed it.

 _Movie star smile, Stevie,_ he'd wink every time he caught Steve gawking at him. He'd burn scarlet and Bucky was laugh and clap his shoulder. Bucky would coax a small grin out of Steve afterwards, then dazzle him with compliments and smother him in a hug. Now the only time Bucky smothered him was when they were sparring. He allowed himself a little huff of amusement at the irony. Next door, Steve heard a muffled thump. His eyebrows snapped together, suspicion clouding his tired thoughts. Was Bucky being attacked? 

Slowly, he nudged open his door and crept to Bucky's room, and strained his ears. It honestly didn't sound like a fight, but it sounded more like Bucky fell off his bed. Steve wanted to laugh but instead stuffed a fist in his mouth and gently knocked on the door. A loud rustling noise met his ears instead and he was about to turn away when Bucky appeared in the small crack of the open door.

"Is something wrong?" he asked huskily, still swathed in blankets.

"Nothing-I just heard something. Is everything okay Buck?" he stuttered. There was something he couldn't fathom in his piercing stare, which he wanted to know but also didn't at the same time.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. "Go back to bed."

"Don't tell me what to do." Bucky's eyes swept over him. Once, twice.

"I'm older than you," he growled. 

"You remembered," Steve felt a smile begin to form. He tried to restrain it. Bucky reached out and slapped his shoulder. "Can I sta-"

"No," he clenched his jaw so hard Steve could hear it click. He quickly pushed him out and slammed the door with enough force to shake the building. Steve almost wilted but dragged himself into his room and wrenched his bed over to the opposite wall. Just so he could be a little closer to Bucky. Just a little.


	6. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a late update, I'm on a small break <3 And yeah, changed my mind, maybe there will be a little less pain :)

Steve felt him and Bucky begin to drift apart again, as though they were on separate boats slowly floating away from each other. As they trained, Bucky was ruthless and his record for beating Steve decreased by the second, shrinking from thirty seconds to twenty-five and soon enough, twenty. He couldn't tell how many days had dragged past since he had first been captured, the guards giving him meals at different times of the day. Eventually, once they realised that he wasn't going to eat drugged food, they pushed him trays of boiled vegetables, 'to keep his health up'. Bucky never let him in anymore, both physically and emotionally. He wondered if Karpov had control of his mind again until he tried to talk to him. Bucky had replied with "I can't" instead of saying nothing, and Steve didn't understand. 

Every time they sparred, Steve couldn't bring himself to _really_ try. He knew soon Karpov's restrain would snap and he would hurt Bucky to force him to comply. So the next day he attended the training session, he pushed his heart to fight him. It was though a monster was squatting in his ribcage, gnawing away at his heart, his mind battling to decide which option would be better. Either way, Bucky got hurt. There was nothing he could do.

"Harder, faster, Captain," Karpov barked as they danced around each other, ducking under swings. Steve continued to nudge at the barrier, playing defensive before lashing out and knocking Bucky onto his knees and, as gently as he could, wrapped a fist around his throat. Bucky stared up at him stonily before bashing his arm away and whirling around in a blur and attacking him once more. "That was sloppy," Karpov's disapproval was washed over his entire stance. Bucky launched himself at Steve again and again while he fended him off. He snarled in frustration as Steve flipped him over and threw himself on top.

"What are you doing," he growled animalistically, struggling underneath him as he pinned him down.

"Working for a living," Steve gasped back. He applied a little more pressure, just enough for Bucky's eyes to widen before he swiftly tapped Steve's thigh so he could release him. Steve didn't want to let go, so he lay there for a moment before he was hesitatedly set on the floor by Bucky. 

"Better. Again." This continued for days, Steve reminiscing the days in which he and Bucky had been together. Memories flitting past like smoke he couldn't quite grasp. He felt as though once he had been able to fly, but he had been shot from the sky and was left with only the ghost of wings. Every night he collapsed into bed, melting into dreams of him and Bucky. Usually it ended up with Bucky about to stab him after short moments of happiness that burst like a bomb.

After days of endless pining, he caved and approached Bucky half an hour before curfew.

"Yeah?" he muttered, running his nails over his metal arm, the edges grating.

"You've been ignoring me," Steve said, hurt creeping into his voice. He was avoiding his gaze like usual, now. Bucky stared at him as Steve slowly placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, that's the point," he said in a rather pinched way. Bucky shoved him softly away and shut the door. Steve's shoulders fell as he walked back to his room and crashed onto his bed. Biting his nails, he tried to coax himself to sleep, but instead lay awake for several hours. That was, until, his thoughts were interrupted by a tearing sound next door.

He practically tripped over himself to rush to Bucky's room. 

"Bucky!" he yelled, stumbling to his bed, where Bucky was writhing under the blankets, his metal arm flashing in the dim light. Steve saw that half of his sheets had been ripped to shreds, and his skin was shining with sweat. Moans escaped his lips as he shivered feverishly. "Bucky, what's wrong?" He shook him roughly, only to have a metal wrist clench his throat.

"Steve!" he shouted, eyes snapping open, a feral look that he didn't recognise. He almost whooped and punched the air. He had called him by his name. For the fist time in years, it seemed. Probably because it was.

"Buck, are you alright?" Steve asked carefully, threading his fingers through Bucky's human hand. Sweat tangled his hair, strands pasted to his forehead. He gulped in air and nodded shakily.

"Yeah," he fumbled with his words, jaw dropping at their interlaced hands. "I-"

"Dreams, I know," Steve nodded. He watched him bite his lip as he shifted on the bed so he could face Steve.

"Mm. Go back to bed. Before I do anything to you."

"You could never," Steve said softly. He returned to avoiding his gaze.

"But I could. You don't understand," he shook his head, wiping his hair out of his eyes. His fingers were trembling, so Steve gently smoothed it out for him, leaning forward. They were almost nose to nose. Bucky's eyes weren't looking into his, though. Steve followed were they were pointed and realised, for some reason, his focus was his own lips. He felt something tighten within him.

"Buck, I-"

"Go to _sleep_ ," he croaked gruffly, eyes never leaving his mouth. Steve obeyed, but before he left, he tucked Bucky in so he wouldn't be too hot, and quietly crept out. He couldn't prevent the stupid grin from splitting across his face when he reached his bed. After his head hit the pillow, he let sleep lull him under, content. For the moment, anyway.

Steve was startled from his dreams (in which he and Bucky came so close their lips almost met, and Steve felt weirdly elated after having them) several times that week by Bucky knocking on the wall in Morse code. Usually, it went something like this:

_Can't sleep. Are you awake?_

_Yes. What's wrong?_

_Dreams._

_Do you want to come here?_

Then Bucky would refuse. Until one night it became so bad that the wall shook with the strength of his pain and Steve sprinted in, scooping him up and brought him to his own room. He would curl up around him protectively, limbs sore from hours of sparring, and bury his face in his hair. Which he combed every morning and night. Bucky still didn't remember him, and never called him by his name once after the first night of his spell. It was a gift anyway, though. One which he treasured and kept alive like candles, sheltering them from the wind, knowing they would eventually burn out.


	7. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I SERIOUSLY enjoy writing this but I think I'm gonna have to put it on hold for a few weeks, because I'm really busy :( But I do PROMISE I will finish it because I actually really love it too lol so enjoy this chapter (plus it's going to be much better if I can concentrate on it) <333

He was confused. Strange dreams plagued him night after night, Steve and him. They were nothing like he knew. Or, perhaps he had. Some fraction of himself was horrified while the other basked in it. They were tangled up together, wrenching animalistic noises from his mouth. Steve's hands would roam over him, his mouth gently pressing into the scarred skin of his left shoulder, planting kisses across his scars. He wanted the dreams to go forever. Sometimes, they involved a small man with Steve's eyes shivering lonely in a bed, and then he would walk into the room and encircle his arms around him, surrounding him in warmth. His shuddering would subside and he would bury his face in the smaller man's shoulder. He didn't understand what it was. Then it might dissolve into another night, when the two would still be in the same bed, but sweating and several spaces apart. It occurred to him that it was summer, and although the man with Steve's eyes didn't need any extra heat, they still slept together. He knew that nothing more than that happened; it was a mutual agreement.

Once, he saw the small man slouching on a chair while he cleaned up his scratches. He would mumble, "I can take care of myself, Bucky."

His own voice would reply, "Obviously not, because I always have to intervene so you don't get concussion. You're a punk, you know that?" as he mopped up the blood on his lip.

"Yeah," the small man cracked a smile. He would feel a heat within himself, seeming to light up his life.

He would wake from those dreams, a strange yearning whining in his heart. He didn't understand. Soon enough, every day after training, it became custom for him to wait in Steve's room for him to finish showering. He'd sit on his bed until he walked out of the bathroom, rerunning the dreams in his mind. Steve's face would soften like butter every time he saw him perched on the bed, and he would kneel in front of him, carefully smoothing the frown lines on his forehead.

"You okay, Buck?" he whispered that night.

"I can remember all of them." he said softly. "Every one of them. Every person the Winter Soldier has..."

"Don't do that to yourself. Please." Steve curled himself around him, shielding him from anything that could come their way. Karpov was pleased with their progress. But he didn't know what they did every night, how Steve buried his nose in his shoulder, soothing him when he burst awake, drenched in sweat. He deemed them ready to look at the mission plans the next week. He knew what it would cost Steve, and he didn't want him to do it. He told him every night, and yet Steve stubbornly refused.

"I am _not_ going to leave you again," he returned firmly. "Never again."

He knew that somewhere deep inside him, he'd do the same. But he couldn't quite figure out why. He asked himself before he slept, while he waited for Steve to finish showering. _Why would you do that for him?_

He ran over the possible reasons in his head thousands of times, but something slipped his grasp which he reached for. It was like trying to catch smoke. 

The next day, he and Steve were sparring, as usual, when Steve said between punches, "You do realise that I'd do anything for you, Buck?" And out of the blue, a memory hit him with the force of a train, making him stagger mid-kick. He dropped to his knees, fists curling as he gasped for air.

_He was lying strapped to a gurney, strange green light filtering through the grimy windows._

_"Sergeant... 3255... 7..."_

_"Bucky? Oh, my God." Someone leant over him, shadows swathing his face. There was a loud crack as the buckles snapped, the lengths of leather dropping to the floor._

_"Is that..." he murmured._

_"It's me. It's Steve," Steve said, a small smile threatening to break across his face._

_"Steve," he felt as though something inside him had exploded, the prospect of_ his Steve _coming to save_ him _repeating over and over in his fuzzled mind._

 _"I thought you were dead." He helped him up, supporting him with an arm, and cupped his cheek for a moment. He wanted more contact, he wanted Steve's gloves off his hands and him touching him so he could feel more stable. So he knew this wouldn't be a dream his brain conjured up. But he knew that it was real because Steve didn't kiss him or anything. However, it didn't clear up the fact that Steve was taller than_ him _now._

_"I thought you were smaller." His eyes flicked up and down him, and Steve blushed a little under his gaze._

"Bucky!" Steve's voice, past or present, he couldn't tell, rang in his ears. 

"S-Steve," he choked, collapsing onto the floor. What on Earth had he just seen? 

"Come on, let's get you to bed." He hoisted him up, wrapping his arm around his waist as so to keep him steady.

"Captain," Karpov said sternly, warning echoing in his tone.

"He's unstable," someone else said. 

"Fine." Footsteps clipped away.

Once he was lying on Steve's bed, he spoke. "Did you rescue me once?" Steve inhaled sharply, then frowned.

"Well, quite a few times actually." Bucky heard him mutter to himself, "Probably not a big deal."

"I was strapped to a gurney, and you came. You said something along the lines of 'I thought you were dead' and then I noticed you were big. I mean, you _were_ smaller, and I-" he cut off, realising how delusional and stupid he sounded. "Doesn't matter," he mumbled.

"Bucky, this-that did happen," Steve's face lit up. He wished that he could make him happier all the time. Except he wasn't Bucky, and he didn't know who he was, and he and Steve were going to kill the Avengers. _How ironic,_ he thought bitterly. "This is great!"

He wished it was.

"Hey, I'm just gonna shower. Are you gonna be alright? Or do you wanna go first?" Steve said softly, rubbing off a small drop of water on his cheek. It dawned on him that he had been _crying_ in front of Steve. If he was trying to impress him, it certainly was not going his way. He suppressed a snarl of frustration.

"You can go," he gritted out. Steve smiled at him, radiant as the sun. He stared at him in awe for a moment before Steve turned and slipped into the bathroom. He flopped back onto the pillow. There was no way Steve could like him in _that_ way. It wasn't even allowed. Steve liked girls, and he knew it. He'd liked that Carter girl during the war.

He doubled back. Carter girl? War? What war? He lurched from the bed and knocked twice on the bathroom door, listening to the sound of water rushing through pipes.

"Steve?" he questioned. The shower abruptly shut off, the glass door slamming and hurried footsteps pattered to him.

"Bucky? Is something wrong?" Steve said anxiously, his hair tousled and dripping. The door was cracked open, and he catch a glimpse of glistening skin and a dull towel.

"Do you have a relationship with a girl called Carter? And what war was there?" The bathroom door flew open and almost hit him in the face.

" _WHAT?_ " He tried very hard to keep his eyes on his face.

"Yeah?" he replied sheepishly.

"Peggy Carter?" He remembered blood red lips and curled dark brown hair. She and Steve standing incredibly close to each other. A compass with a picture of her. 

"That agent dame? The one that you-you fancied?" Something passed over Steve's face. He thought it might have been sadness. Love, probably. Nothing that he felt for him, anyway.

"The war was World War II. How much did they hide from you?" Steve whispered. _Everything, except you,_ he wanted to say. _They couldn't hide you._

"You-uh, can go shower now." Steve shot him a grin (which he almost felt the impact of) and quietly closed the door. He retreated to the bed, sitting down with a thump. He caught a snatch of something blue. A notebook. He thought he shouldn't, but... 

He picked up the book, flipping it open. it was full to the brim with artwork, rough sketches of things like the Avengers, and as he turned past each page, he recognised himself. Steve was running after _him_ , the Winter Soldier. Then there was a detailed drawing of them hugging. He was about to peel back the next page when someone quickly snatched it out of his hands. He looked up to see Steve, cheeks bright red and wrapped in his towel, blond hair plopping water onto the book.

"Sorry," he stared at his feet. 

"You can have the shower now," Steve said gruffly. "I'm done." Embarrassment bloomed in him. He shouldn't snoop around his stuff, especially when he'd been so kind to him. He didn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry Steve," he said. "I really am." He knew he was straight. He never could like him.


	8. Bridal Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm back for this chapter and I'll disappear for a couple more weeks. Despite what you think, I haven't forgotten you! I SERIOUSLY love writing this book so I promise I won't be quitting. I'm sorry for being away for so long, but I'll write this chapter now so you have some motivation to keep reading. <333

Steve carefully shaded in the drawing, taking care to outline the sharp jawline and long, doeful eyelashes. Brushing his pencil down, he squinted in concentration to darken the crosshatching on-

"Steve?" He slammed the notebook shut, smiling awkwardly as Bucky hesitantly sat down beside him, hair damp. He had the sudden urge to braid it for some strange reason.

"Y-yeah?" He scratched the nape of his neck, a nervous laugh threatening to bubble up.

Bucky paused, before asking him a question he never expected. "Have... have we-um-kissed once?"

Steve broke into a coughing fit, choking for air. "I- _what?"_ He squeezed out, gasping. _"No!_ Why would you ask that?"

Bucky's cheeks tinted pink, and he immediately threw his gaze around the room, looking anywhere but him. "Uh, no reason." he muttered. "I can't imagine why I'd ask, sorry." Steve caught him wince, neck brushed with scarlet embarrassment. 

"Do you wanna go to sleep now?" Bucky was still avoiding his glances-still beet red and tight-lipped.

"Sure," he mumbled in response. Steve eased off his shirt, trying not to clench his muscles. Bucky stared at him, slack-jawed, to which Steve frowned at.

"Buck?" He then seemed to wake up, as though in a trance before. He nodded rapidly before following Steve's lead and removing his own shirt. Tucking themselves into the bed, he wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist, and pulled him close, entwining himself around his body. "'Night, Buck."

"Goodnight," he whispered. Steve cut himself off before he said anything else. He buried his nose in Bucky's shoulder, and he felt him tense slightly before relaxing. Steve released a content sigh, inhaling Bucky's scent. 

***

The next morning during sparring, Steve decided to try a particular manoeuvre that he'd seen on a wrestling show. He had just been flicking through the TV channels and the most interesting thing on that time had been a wrestling competition.

Sprinting up to Bucky, he practically leapt into his arms, trying to use his weight to bring him down. Instead of the desired action, Bucky just stood there, clutching Steve in his hands, metal arm taking most of the weight. He didn't release him, just cradling him in his arms for a few moments, confusion flickering across his features. Steve realised what it looked like, heat spreading across his face. _Unintended bridal style,_ he thought, blush burning his ears and cheeks.

"What are you two idiots doing now?" Karpov snapped, clicking his fingers at Bucky, who was still standing there holding Steve, mouth agape.

"N-nothing-I just wanted to try out a move, it didn't work-" Steve stuttered, arms around Bucky's neck.

"Then stop it and try something new." Karpov scoffed, the sound weaving through the air like poisonous smoke. Bucky gently set Steve on his feet, fingers lingering for moment too long.

"Of course." Steve said under his breath, trying to rein in his emotions. Beside him, Bucky was gnawing on his lip so hard it drew blood. Steve desperately wanted to wipe the crimson away. His hands were already stained with enough blood.

Off they went again, fighting like two enemies. They might as well be; Bucky didn't know who he was. He didn't know how to feel. Bucky was here, but he couldn't recognise him and he'd been through years of torture, probably screaming for him to rescue him. And Steve hadn't saved him, and that was his greatest regret. He could have pulled him up from the train. It was just that tiny, minuscule distance between their hands and Bucky would have been alive. Steve would have found a way to live and land the Valkyrie, will to survive brighter with the fact that Bucky would be waiting for him. Then the war would be over, and they could go home and have a life that wasn't a complete mess. They could be happy, even if it meant tons of tension between them. It would mean they would be just friends forever. That shouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve couldn't help himself but think that.

 _No, no._ What on Earth was he thinking? He liked Peggy (even if she was gone) and not Bucky. Bucky was his closest friend, closer-than-brother friend. Maybe they shared a deep bond but it didn't mean anything. Surely all best friends slept together and had a sixth sense if they were in trouble or not. Steve remembered seeing two girls plaiting each others' hair. That was a best friend thing to do. It wasn't like Bucky was in love with him or anything. If he couldn't remember him, he certainly didn't have a crush on him. Steve didn't reciprocate his feelings, if there were any. Just a very strong sense of caring. 

That was all. They were friends and nothing more, and Steve was content with that.

***

Slouching against the wall, Steve watched as Bucky picked at his food. 

"Buck, um..." Steve scrambled for words, forgetting what he was going to say. "Just wanted to say, uh, I love you." he blurted, burning bashful scarlet, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Y-you're my best friend and I uh, am happy you're here?" he said clumsily, stumbling over his words. "No no I'm not happy you're _here_ , I'm happy I'm with you. You know what I mean?" It got worse every word he said, what meant to be an innocent reminder that he cared for him shifting into a strange declaration. Bucky's face morphed every syllable he spoke, unreadable expressions flying over the planes of his features.

"You do?" he asked quietly, fiddling with a piece of bread on his plate.

"Yes, very much." _Too sappy, Rogers_ , he chided himself. 

"Don't say anything flirty," he thought he heard Bucky mutter.

"Sorry what?" he gulped, keeping his emotions in check.

"Nothing!" Bucky squeaked, flashing a nervous smile at Steve that looked extremely false. "I said, 'don't yay spring dings dirty', of course." Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, Steve frowning and gently swiping it away with his sleeve.

"Are you alright, Buck?" he said in a low voice, inching closer. Soon they were close enough to hug. Any more and then-

"Yeah, yeah, why wouldn't I be?" he answered quickly. 

"Um, I dunno." Steve glanced down at Bucky's bottom lip, dried blood crusting on the chapped pink skin. Slowly reaching up so Bucky would be warned, he laid the pad of his thumb on his mouth, brushing away the ruby crystals. Bucky's eyelids fluttered shut, and Steve was highly aware of his heartbeat thundering in his chest like a mad horse galloping around his ribcage. They remained in that position for a few moments, the desire to be closer creeping up in the pit of his stomach like a vine, crawling into his brain. He fruitlessly tried to banish it and failed, his attempt to rip the parasite failing. Shuffling around, he now was right up against Bucky's chest, feeling his own lungs constricting and sucking out any air. Bucky froze before placing his hands on Steve's waist and pulling him onto his lap. Steve literally couldn't breathe, there was no oxygen circling his system. Any second now, he would probably faint from a lack of air. _That escalated quickly._ But they didn't do anything, simply sat there unmoving. Honestly, he didn't know _what_ to do. He couldn't just kiss him. He didn't like him anyway. Not like _that_. That would be unfair to both of them. So he settled for wrapping his arms around Bucky and straining to control himself. 


	9. Mission Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I'm FINALLY finished with my other preoccupations, so I can actually concentrate on this book more!! I'm so happy :3 Expect more regular updates, generally once a week. <3

"Buck," Steve whispered, sitting up in bed and gently prodding Bucky's sleeping shoulder. Recently his nightmares had become a little less frequent, although he would still sit bolt upright in the middle of the night. Steve would soothe him to slip under sleep's grasp again, wrapping himself around Bucky's figure.

He tried to wipe the pervious night's events from his mind. He would start a fresh day and pretend nothing happened. _We were hugging. Bucky can't even remember me; I doubt he'd like me in any other way than acquaintances._ A low, slow moan dragged from Bucky's lips, and he shifted around, planting his hands on Steve's hips. He froze, as Bucky's fingers danced up his bare back lightly. "B-Buck," he stuttered, grabbing his wrists. Bucky's eyes fluttered open to find his hands over Steve's back and his wrists pinned by the latter's fingers. His eyes were wide as he pried his wrists free, maintaining eye contact with the blond the entire time.

"Sorry." 

"It's fine." Steve forced a smile to cover his hammering heart. "We have to go." He grunted in response, flipping his legs over to the edge of the bed and sliding his shirt on. Steve averted his gaze and copied Bucky's actions. Together they strode out the door and into the general training hall.

"We have deemed you ready," Karpov said by way of greeting. "Today we send you off to kill the Avengers." There was a manic glint in his eye; Steve was familiar with the expression- a man who knew his plan was coming together. "Take your time, but I want you back in three months at the most." Several HYDRA agents came over and handed them large bags, probably filled with supplies needed to kill the most powerful people on Earth. "I look forward to good news, Captain." Steve nodded stiffly, taking his shield as it was passed to him. He immediately pressed the secret button to change its paint job back to the original red, white and blue. 

"We have your alibi," an agent said, pointing to a small stack of cards. "Burn it after you've memorised it." 

"Soldat is your friend and you can't mention anything about us or who he really is because we will find out and you will pay." Karpov smiled coldly, a menacing undertone hidden beneath the surface. "You wouldn't want to put him in danger, would you?" He paced leisurely towards Bucky, scraping his jawline with a finger. Steve twitched as Bucky flinched, a small movement almost undetectable to the eye. He wanted to screw Karpov's head off and snap his spinal cord so thoroughly that he would bend into a tiny ball of flesh. _Not y_ e _t_ , a voice said in his brain. _Protect Bucky first_. That was his priority, as it had always been Bucky's when Steve was smaller.

"We'll drop you at the edge of New York, then you find your way to Avengers Tower. Build trust with them so they don't suspect anything. That's why it's good to have Captain here as they already know you and won't suspect anything. Hide the bags when you get there." Karpov gestured to a door that Steve hadn't seen before. He began to make his way over until Karpov held a hand up. "You're going under a sedative."

"What? No!" Steve burst out.

"You will do what we _say_ , Captain," Karpov gritted out, stubbornly standing his ground. "Unless you want to watch-"

"Fine."

A scientist shuffled over, waving to a pair of gurneys. Steve hesitantly sat upon one, glancing to Bucky to see him staring at the table with distaste, shoulders clenched. Two thugs went to pin Bucky down. Steve abruptly sat up, about to punch their lights out, before everything in his vision blacked out.

Steve's eyes opened to find himself leaning heavily against Bucky, who was still out. His cheek was resting on his shoulder, a speck of drool dripping out of his mouth. Embarrassed, he swiped it away, to take in his surroundings. They were seated on a wobbling bench, handcuffed, and Steve realised they were in some sort of car. He tried to rip his hands free, but found they were extremely strong. Just like the sedative, everything was amplified to apply to the super soldiers. There were no windows, so he couldn't distinguish where they were. Bucky lurched and toppled onto Steve, and he quickly supported him so he was lying across his lap. Steve brushed some hair out of his face, languidly running a finger across his cheek.

He leant in closer, studying his features, soft in unconsciousness, lacking the hardness that they carried when he was aware of everything. Suddenly, his eyes flickered, peeling open to reveal brilliant blue-grey irises. Steve knew sometimes, depending on the way the light fell, they could appear to be a soft ocean blue-green. 

"Hey, Buck," he whispered. He rendered how close they were, his breath becoming sharper. Bucky reached up to softly touch his cheekbone, trailing down to be right beside his lips. He squeaked in surprise, then composed himself. Bucky quickly removed his hand.

"Um, we're almost there." He nodded, and swiftly sat up. Steve felt a loss of warmth, even though Bucky's blood temperature was lower than his by several degrees. He shifted over to be squished up against Bucky, huddling even though his own body temperature was practically boiling, and he didn't need to conserve heat. He enveloped his in his arms, feeling him stop dead before slowly loosening. Steve placed his head on Bucky's shoulder once more. He didn't reciprocate, but it didn't matter. If he didn't push him off, then that was another step. 

Soon enough, (or maybe it was hours that didn't matter to Steve because he was with Bucky) the vehicle stopped. The back doors slid open, both of them squinting at the light. 

"You're awake," said a gruff voice. "Get out." They stepped outside, bags immediately shoved in their arms. "Go to the closest bus stop. We're going to cover your tracks. Stick to your alibis."

Steve and Bucky began to trudge to the bus stop, which was a few minutes away. Hopefully no one would realise who he was. Boarding the bus, they sat in silence, the feeling of closeness evaporating. Steve longed for more contact, so he wouldn't feel so alone.

They craned their necks back to see the top of Avengers Tower, Steve inhaling deeply. Bucky tensed beside him, twisting around at every noise by reflex. 

"It's okay, Buck." He held out a hand to him, patting his shoulder awkwardly. "All we have to do now... is-" He cut himself off, not able to think about it. He had considered escaping, before Karpov had put an end to those fantasies. _'We'll track you down and skin you alive so all that's left is your bones,'_ he'd threatened. Maybe they could live on their own one day. If they could escape this fate.


	10. The Avengers

Steve led Bucky through the lobby, gulping more times than natural, trying to swallow down his worry. _It's just the Avengers_ , he told himself. __They know you. You're kind of their leader.__

Bucky's eyes were darting all over the hall, drinking in possible exits and weapons he could use to arm himself, or all the outcomes that could happen. The receptionist could have a massive firearm under the desk, the man with the briefcase could whack it across his forehead to knock him out...

"Bucky," Steve said stiffly, nodding to the elevator after catching the glance of several people who were passing through the lobby, heads swivelling as they saw Captain America shuffle awkwardly through the hall. He wasn't usually like this; just the mere situation and the knowledge that he'd have to murder some of his friends was weighing him down. Miserable thought after miserable thought flew across his mind, plaguing him with a burden that rested heavily on his shoulders. It was an unwelcome weight, always there to remind him of what he would have to do.

They stood in the elevator silently, Steve staring down at his feet, pretending to notice a scuff on the heel of his boot. Bucky was watching the numbers go up, the fancy Stark technology smooth and clean running. How would the company be when Tony was gone? How would he face them all, knowing they'd soon be dead? Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach, looming over him as the levels climbed. With a small ding, the lift doors slid open soundlessly, revealing the Avengers standing in a hushed air directly in front of them.

"Steve," Natasha said in a gravelly voice. She slowly paced till she was facing him, gazing up into his face. "We thought you died." She wrapped her arms around his waist, sighing softly. Sam mimicked her after she was finished hugging him. 

"It's good to see you, Steve." He smiled. Nobody seemed to notice Bucky, who was off to the side, tensed up. After everyone had greeted him or welcomed him back, all their eyes crept over to Bucky.

"Uh, guys," Steve's voice cracked, as he fumbled to remember his alibi, "this is my friend Bucky. Um, I wanted to bring him here because he needs somewhere to stay and he's safest with me." Natasha looked as though she had seen a ghost.

"James?" she whispered, reaching up to cup his face. Bucky flinched violently, gaze darting to Steve desperately. Panic shone in his eyes, seeming to seize his body up. Steve tried to reign in a snake that resided in his core, it hissing and lashing out to his mental walls. A glistening tear tore down Natasha's cheek. "I left you behind... I'm so sorry..."

"Who are you?" Bucky strangled out. "I've never met you, s-sorry." She resisted his weak protests and stood on her tiptoes, pressing a long kiss to his cheek. Incredibly close to his lips, Steve noticed. His hands were aching. Looking down at them, he realised he had been clenching them so hard blood was beginning to drip out of his palm. His heart was thumping in his ears and he was sure his face was scarlet.

"Natasha," he growled. She ignored him, her fingers ghosting over the planes of Bucky's face. Something in Russian slipped from her lips as she continued to scan him for recognition. He heard something that sounded like 'Natalia' fall out of Bucky's mouth. Confusion flickered over his features, and Natasha nodded, a smile spreading. Steve wanted to punch something. And then probably throw a desk out the window. _I must have a crush on Natasha,_ he registered. _That's why I'm so aggravated._ Natasha was leaning into Bucky, until she steadily began to approach his lips. Steve held his breath. _Don't kiss don't kiss don't kiss don't kiss_ -

Their mouths connected, two pairs of eyelids fluttering closed. Steve fumed, nails digging in hard enough that it drew blood from his skin. Irritably clearing his throat, he brushed past them, doing his best to keep the urge to storm bottled up. _That's Thor's job_ , he reminded himself.

"Hey, Cap, you okay?" Tony said teasingly, sipping from a cup of coffee. His expression softened for a moment. "It's nice to have you back, by the way. We were getting kinda worried." 

Steve exhaled. So far, there was no suspicion. However, these were the Avengers- some of the most dangerous people on Earth. Even the galaxy, maybe. "Thanks, Tony. I missed you guys."

"So, who's your friend?" He raised an eyebrow, lifting the mug to his mouth. "What's his name again?"

"Uh, um," he stuttered, trying to remember Bucky's fake name. Then he remembered Natasha called him James. So he settled with that. "James. His name's James."

Tony frowned. "Hn." He took another gulp of coffee. Steve looked around at the tower, gnawing on his bottom lip and doing his best to ignore Bucky and Natasha. However, they seemed to be a beacon inviting his gaze like a moth to a light. 

"I'm gonna go to my room, I think." he gritted out, before he snapped and forced the two apart. "Is Bu-James allowed to stay with me?" This wrought out a larger frown from Tony.

"Like, as in share a bed?"

"No! Well, I mean-" Technically, he couldn't deny it, but when he put it like that it seemed extremely... "Uh, he can have the room next to me?"

"Wanda has that room."

"The other one?" 

"Natasha's." Tony threw a glance over Steve's shoulder at Bucky and Natasha. "I'm guessing _they'll_ be the ones sharing a room..." Steve glowered, feeling as though he'd soon catch on fire and erupt.

"Fine," he almost spat, sweeping himself out and thundering away to his room. He heard some footsteps trailing him, and he turned, ready to give whoever it was a piece of his mind. "Listen-"

"Steve?" Natasha said, bewildered. "Is everything okay?" He took a deep breath, plastering a smile on his face. 

"Yes. I'm fine thanks Nat."

"I was thinking, maybe you need someone."

"What do you mean?" Steve already had Bucky, didn't he?

"As in a companion."

"Buc-James is my companion. He's my b-friend." He stumbled over his words, red heating his cheeks.

"I meant a girlfriend," Natasha chided knowingly, giving him a look with a tilt of her head that only the Black Widow could pull off.

Steve's mind went blank.

"G-girlfriend?" he stammered, sentences incomprehensible in his brain.

"Yeah. In fact, there's someone I want you to meet." She tossed him a lazy smile, beckoning him to follow her. With a sigh, he ambled after her graceful steps. A few floors down, they came to a halt. Natasha knocked on a door of an office, holding it open for him after a woman's voice called "Come in!"

"Steve," Natasha beamed, "this is Sharon." Steve's jaw dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe I'm mean


	11. Trying to Settle

Sharon smiled flirtily. "Nice to finally meet you, Mr Rogers." 

Steve forced a smile. "Uh, nice to meet you too."

"The pleasure's mine, Captain. Nat told me she'd introduce us, so..." The silence hung in the air. _This is a mistake,_ he scolded himself. He turned desperately to Natasha, but saw she had disappeared into thin air. Steve cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. This reminded him of an encounter he sure despised-Private Lorraine running her fingers all over him, grabbing his tie to bring his lips down to hers...

Sharon let out a giggle when he refused to meet her gaze. "Shy, are we?" He chuckled nervously, training his gaze on a plant on her desk.

"No, um, I just haven't really, uh," Steve trailed off, gesturing in front of himself aimlessly. 

"What, talked to a woman before?" He frowned. What was that implying? Natasha was a woman. He'd spoken to plenty of women.

"Actually, I have-"

She shushed him. "That's not the point, Steve." Sharon stalked closer to him until she was less than a couple of centimetres from his face. He coughed and pointedly took a step back.

"I don't think I'm ready for that yet," he said sharply.

"Ready for what?" she smiled, simpering sweetly. It made Steve want to vomit. As soon as she placed a manicured hand on his chest, he recoiled as if she was a poisonous snake.

"That." He edged away, reaching for the doorknob. Steve quickly ducked outside and shut the door behind him, breathing out a relieved sigh.

"So, I take it didn't go great?" Natasha said, cocking her hip and arching an eyebrow. Steve brushed past her, gnawing on his lip out of annoyance. 

"No. Please don't shove me into something like that again, Natasha." He couldn't help but a small growl slip past his mouth. She shook her head.

"Is this about James?" she asked, the faintest blush blooming on her cheeks. Natasha, the Black Widow, blushing? Steve had never seen anything like it before. He scowled, his bad mood spiralling at the thought of her slight embarrassment being caused by Bucky. Bucky was _his_. His and his only. Steve was starting to see red as Natasha began to yammer on about Bucky.

"You know, I just realised I have to go to my room," he said through gritted teeth.

Natasha tilted her head. "What _did_ happen to you, anyway?" Steve felt a thread of panic weave through his mind. Natasha was clever. She was a world class spy, after all. Could she be onto them?

"We, uh, got held up and our transponders weren't working. We managed to get back after knocking out some enemies." A trickle of sweat ran down the nape of his neck. He had a feeling his ears were burning. Natasha didn't look convinced. 

"What enemies?" she asked suspiciously, her eyebrows drawing together, lips pinched. 

"HYDRA," Steve gulped. "I mean, the remnants of the followers of Red Skull after the war, you know?" Natasha pursed her mouth. Steve could practically see the cogs in her nimble brain scaling and turning over the shifty information he had just given her.

"Didn't you clean out the rest of them?"

"No, I just figured out there were a few stragglers who I had to take out." He paused a moment too long, to which Natasha's eyes narrowed to slits. "In Siberia."

"Siberia." Natasha said slowly, dragging out the word. Maybe she was trying to intimidate something out of him. "I met James in Siberia." There was a wistful memory in her eyes that Steve didn't like. 

"What happened with _you_ two then?" Steve cut in hastily, ready to change the subject. Her whole posture lifted, expression lighting up. Steve sagged down even further in contrast. What on Earth was wrong with him? 

"James and I-" She was blocked off by Bucky striding down the hall, his gaze set on her. She brightened considerably, a smile edging onto her face. "Speak of the devil."

"Hi J-James," Steve stuttered, straightening and drinking in his form. Only to see if he was alright, he reminded himself. Even if the last time he had seen him was about fifteen minutes ago. Bucky turned to him for a moment, but it could have been a figment of his imagination because a split second later, he was resting a gentle hand on Natasha's shoulder. They looked like star crossed lovers, lost in each other's stare. Steve quickly spun on his heel, leaving them, not being able to look at them anymore. Natasha had gained Bucky's trust so fast, and it had taken what had seemed like years for Bucky to let him touch him. Hugging had taken them a few days at least. And he had _kissed_ Natasha as soon as he saw her. He knew he should respect him, and he did. But he was both sad and a little jealous that Natasha had so easily walked into his trust. Steve was his best friend. They'd known each other for almost as long as they could _remember_.

Things had changed, after all.

He just wished they hadn't.

All of the Avengers at some point during the day had came up to question Steve about what happened to him. He knew all of them were intelligent and he wasn't going to fool them for very long. What punched him even more was the fact that he would have to murder all of them. Even though he didn't seen on the same level as them some times, they were still his friends and he cared for them. But how far would he go for Bucky? Surely they could find a way to escape. Steve had a knack for getting out of tight situations. However, he had no clue how he hadn't died yet. He should have died years ago. He had tried to find a way out of the trap of Earth he was locked on. Tried to join Bucky in that place where dead people lived. Yet here he was, almost seventy-five years later. With his best friend, whom he loved with his whole entire soul and heart and mind, who couldn't even recognise him. And what happened to make matters worse was that his best friend happened to be kissing a woman who they would be murdering. Staying in the house of the man who they would murder. In the same house as the empire they would topple to the dust. 

He wished they were just in the 1930s again.


	12. Please Remember Me

Steve always did his best to go with the flow. Unless Bucky was in danger or something insane was happening. That was quite often, actually. But what really blew his mind was Bucky and Natasha. He couldn't focus on anything with the thought of them plaguing his mind, a constant reminder he was, in fact, not good enough. Nothing he did ever was good enough. He was almost 100% certain that it was jealousy because he wanted Bucky's attention back on him again. It was just like their childhood; all the girls running after Bucky and ignoring Steve. 

Did he like Natasha?

He really didn't know. He hadn't been the expert in the love department. That was Bucky's job. Now he seemed to be blatantly avoiding Steve with every chance he got. They weren't sharing a room anymore, and he felt a growing Bucky-shaped hole in his heart, and an absence of warmth. Even though Bucky's body temperature was chillier than the average human, and Steve's own blood ran hotter than most people, he still felt as though something was missing. As though a part of himself, the last missing jigsaw piece was tucked away somewhere he couldn't find.

Steve was slouching on his bed with the curtains drawn, moping alone in his self pity. There was rarely a time he did anything of the sort, but he was going to lose his mind. He had gotten Bucky back but the circumstances seemed to be rolling downhill instead of steadily climbing. Why did the universe hate him so much? _No it doesn't,_ he reminded himself quickly. _I should have died years ago._ That didn't improve his mood at all. Neither did the notion that Sharon continued to pursue his heart, attempting to woo him every chance she got.

Sometimes he thought that no one really understood what it was like. Best friend returned and couldn't even place his face. It burnt like an inferno raging in his soul. He wished he could just remember him. Even though he never wanted to pressure him. But secretly, deep inside, he wished he knew a way to make him remember. It would be so much easier for both of them.

Someone knocked on his door tentatively. "Please go away," Steve grumbled, facedown on his covers.

"Steve? Are you okay?" Sam's voice asked.

"Mmhm."

"Can I come in?" He took a deep breath, steeling himself and brushing himself off, grabbing his sketchbook and plastering an expression of deep thought on his face.

"Yup." Sam edged the door open, peeking around, eyebrows pinched together. He didn't know what Sam had been expecting.

"Hey. You alright?" Concern laced his voice. Steve hated it. He knew Sam was trying to assist his sorrows, but he couldn't help the fact that Bucky didn't like him in the slightest. Probably never liked him in the first place. His drawings were full of angry scratches and lines everywhere, clouding the pages with the roiling storm that brewed within him.

Steve hastily shut his sketchbook, smiling shiftily. "Yeah! Why wouldn't I be?" He kept his gaze on Sam's shoulder. He couldn't bear to look anyone in the eyes. Maybe he felt guilty that they weren't Bucky or something or maybe he was just trying to hide. Or he was probably just lying. He was a prisoner in his own mind and he didn't even understand his own thoughts or feelings. 

"Steve," Sam said earnestly, in a serious tone that Steve never liked to hear. "What happened."

He sighed. "Nothing, Sam. Nothing you can fix. It honestly doesn't matter. I'm just making a mountain out of a molehill. You know, unnecessary dramaticity."

"Is that even a word?" he chuckled.

"Pff, probably not. Uh, do you have any new missions?" Steve steered the conversation away from his problems.

"Oh, no you don't. _What. Happened._ " Sam sat down on the floor. "I'm not leaving until you tell me about why you're so weepy."

"I can't tell you, Sam," Steve smiled wryly. He couldn't say anything without Sam becoming suspicious. A friend who couldn't remember him? That was a sure topic for prying. He would blow his cover.

"If you can't tell me who or whatever, just give me a basic idea." 

"Well," he fiddled with his pencil, "There's someone who's ignoring me but they're really important. I care for them a lot but they don't seem to reciprocate anything towards me." He exhaled loudly, breath whooshing out of his lungs.

Sam smirked. "Ooooh, is this loooveee?"

"No!" Steve exclaimed, cheeks burning.

"Who's the lucky girl?" he said slyly. "Is it Sharon? She's paying loads of attention to you, though... Or Nat! Oh my God, Cap, _Nat?_ "

"Sam, you're completely wrong," he muttered, scratching his neck. "That's weird."

"Who then?" Sam whined. "Please tell meeeee."

"No. One. I'm not in love with anyone. Never have been." He looked him dead in the eye. 

"Or is is a guy?" Sam stopped as he saw the look Steve wore. Maybe it was a mixture of dread or maybe he was ghostly pale, a contrast from the blush that had adorned his cheeks not about thirty seconds before. Even Steve didn't know. Sam shrank back, clearing his throat. "I mean, are you talking about a friend or something?"

"Well, yeah. Uh, you don't know him." Sam eyed him. "What am I supposed to do?" A broken laugh forced itself out of his mouth.

"Go up and talk to him." Sam said bluntly.

"I can't do that!"

"Do it or I'll arrange a lunch date for you and Sharon."

"Fine." Steve snapped, standing abruptly and walking stiffly over to the mirror, tidying himself up. He saw Sam's eyebrow raised reflection staring back. He combed his hair and fluffed it, then straightened his clothes.

"May I ask why you're going to so much effort to look good for a friend?"

"Shut up," he growled, slipping on his shoes and ripping the door open. Sam's snickers followed him down the hall to Bucky's room. He checked around to make sure no one was watching, before squeezing his eyes shut and twisting the doorknob, hoping he wouldn't find Bucky and Natasha doing anything together. "Bucky?" he asked quietly. Maybe he wasn't in here. 

There was a mound of blankets in the middle of the bed. _Please don't let Natasha be here,_ he prayed. Slowly, Steve crept into the room. The blankets rustled, and Bucky sat up blearily. 

"Is Natasha-"

"No." he frowned. "This bed is too soft."

"Is that a reason or-"

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to ask why you're ignoring me," Steve's voice portrayed a hint of anger he was trying to hide. 

"I'm not ignoring you."

"What about you and Natasha?" he nearly shouted. "Where did that come from?"

"Steve-" Bucky began, pain etching his tone.

"I thought we were getting somewhere!" Steve tried his best to rein in sobs that suddenly clogged up his throat.

"I knew her." he said quietly.

"You knew me too!" he yelled. "Before her!" He turned away, not being able to bear Bucky seeing him crying. "Look, just, never mind. You can forget me after all this is done. I don't know what you'll do about Natasha though." He stormed out the door, not bothering to hear Bucky's response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, drama. Is it just me or am I losing reads? Anyway guys, enjoy the pain >:) FEEL THE BURNNNN  
> (personally I think Sharon could have been a good character but they ruined Civil War and her with it lol because of Staron EUGH)  
> I know the only person Bucky remembered was Steve and I'm happy thats canon hehe but I'm here to cause you guys pain that's my job


	13. Natalia

Natalia called him James. It never felt right, like a glove that was too large or too small. Bucky didn't quite fit either, but it sounded nicer coming out of Steve's mouth. 'James' sounded harsh and inflexible, something he couldn't grow into. He would never be the person they saw. He didn't even know why he was with Natalia. There was a blurry, fuzzy memory that involved her, but he honestly couldn't fathom why he was so close to her. He didn't feel any spark when she touched him. 

And it was wounding Steve. He could tell it was slowly eating away at him, gnawing on his patience and the tether that held his temper together. He didn't understand why he was upset about it. Why would anyone care about him? Why did Natalia seem so interested in him? It wasn't like he knew who she was. It was only a matter of time before she started asking questions.

Sometimes he wished things were more simple. But life wasn't too bad, was it? Apart from the fact he didn't recognise his own face or his supposed 'best friend' and now also his supposed 'girlfriend' as well. In truth, he didn't exactly want or like being with Natalia. He still felt empty as an undug grave. It didn't make a difference to fill the void inside him. He didn't know what would.

 _My life is a mess,_ he thought, falling back into his covers and burrowing under the blankets. _Why can't Steve and I live together and I remember everything?_

He didn't come out for dinner. He knew he had a mission to follow and complete, but this was the most rest he would get, although his sleep was full of gaps and nightmares that made him burst awake. Somewhere in his mind he noted that he would have to wear a gag to sleep to prevent the screams from ripping the tower apart. Every visit from Steve made him see the pain that lurked in his eyes, beyond what others could see. _I'm sorry,_ he wanted to say. He could see Steve's resolve cracking, wilting like a flower that had been in bloom for too long. 

"James," a voice said softly. It took him a moment to process who it was, before realising it was Natalia. "James, do you want breakfast?" He didn't feel hungry, although he probably hadn't eaten a proper meal since... 1943.

"I'll come," he said reluctantly. He didn't bother to clean himself up, just throwing on a jacket and boots before slouching out the door. Natalia gave him a once over, a strange expression on her face.

"Alright then. Steve doesn't seem to happy, by the way." 

"Yes, I noticed," he replied stiffly. She eyed him suspiciously. 

"Is there something going on with you two?"

"No, why would you think that?" He did his best to sound as normal as possible, like a person with their own mind would, although his voice sounded a few tones higher than usual. 

"Because you both are acting extremely odd." Natalia scrutinised him, studying his features carefully. He felt as though he was being picked apart, coil by coil. The Winter Soldier was cold and calculating, emotions an unknown stranger. The Winter Soldier was hardly a person-just a machine, a weapon that was used by HYDRA for their own purposes. He didn't know what he was now. He didn't understand how to be a person anymore. Maybe someone could teach him, but he doubted anyone would want to. _Steve would_ , that little voice in the back of his mind said.

 _No he wouldn't_ , the Winter Soldier snarled. _No one cares about you. The only people who think you're useful is HYDRA. Focus on your mission, Soldat._

"James." Natalia snapped her fingers in front of his face abruptly. Natalia knew what he'd done, who he really was. Surely she knew what he was doing. His tongue felt like it was made from sandpaper, rasping against the roof of his mouth.

"I'm coming." He slowly trudged after her, watching her sashay to the elevator. 

They entered the kitchen, the smell of eggs and bacon wafting out. He quickly eyed all the possible exits, the possible weapons he could use other than the knife stashed in his shoe. Then he stopped in his tracks. Steve was standing there, a cup of coffee half way to his mouth. He had counted on him not being there, but of course he was. Steve always got back up again. Why should he have expected him to be in his room or elsewhere? He was becoming sloppy. If he was back at HYDRA, he would have been punished for days on end. Steve was still as a deer in headlights, his mouth slightly open in surprise or some other emotion he couldn't render.

"Hey, Cap, you okay?" Tony joked, digging into his eggs and stuffing them in his mouth. Thor was hogging an entire box of Poptarts, shoving them down his throat every few seconds, and he nodded his head vigorously in agreement with Tony, unable to talk.

After he swallowed, he said, "Are you feeling well Steven?" Thor followed his gaze towards where he was standing, frowning slightly. "Is there something going on between you and Mr Barnes, Steven?"

"N-no," Steve stuttered, breaking from his trance and spilling his coffee over his shirt. "He's my friend." 

He didn't know what could hurt more.

He nodded to show his cooperation, barely noticeable. Natalia turned to him, confusing flitting over her sculpted features. She was perfect. Why didn't he feel anything? Steve's face was becoming more red by the second, but it could have been from the scalding coffee splattered across his shirt.

"James," Natalia said, drawing closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. There was a loud _smash_ as shards of the mug Steve had been holding shattered into smithereens, plinking onto the floor.

"Excuse me," he muttered, brushing past them. Sam stood from where he had been seated watching a news broadcast, jogging slowly after Steve. He scowled after him. Shouldn't he be the one supporting Steve? He was supposed to be his best friend. So he broke away from Natalia, casting her off. He trailed after Steve, quickly finding him after hearing the sound of hushed arguing. 

"Steve, you should really just sort it out," said Sam's voice. "There are more important things to focus on."

"Sam, _he's_ the most important thing. Well, maybe that's over-exaggerating, but I can't just-talk to him. It doesn't work like that!"

"Dude, he's your best friend. He should understand whatever mess this is."

"Steve?" he asked quietly, peeking around the corner. Steve gasped, sucking in a breath and leant on the wall casually.

"Hi Bu-James. Uh, is something wrong?" His tone sounded far too cheerful compared to how he was only moments before.

"I just wanted to see if you're alright," he replied gracelessly.

"I'm fine." Sam looked between them, bewildered, eyebrow raised. He had no idea what to do or say.

There was a pregnant pause, before Sam said slowly, "I'm just gonna go get some orange juice." Sam shuffled out of their vision, and when he thought that he wouldn't be able to see, flashed Steve a thumbs up.

"So..." Steve said awkwardly. "How do you know Natasha?"

"I met her," he said, as though they were both supposed to know what that meant. To be honest, he couldn't quite remember either. 

"And...?" Steve prompted. "I didn't know you two were a thing."

"A thing," he said expectantly.

"As in dating? In a relationship?" Steve sighed and threw his hands up.

"I'm in a relationship with you too." He tilted his head to the side. "Right?"

"What? No! Bucky, what are you talking about? You're my best friend!" Steve's face was completely and utterly scarlet. 

"Yeah, that's a relationship, isn't it?" He was becoming more and more confused by the minute.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Steve, what do you want?"

"Look, Buck, just... We need to keep our eyes on the prize before we get X-d out by HYDRA. Forget it." Steve pushed past him, hugging his sides, shoulders shrugged in on himself.

He felt even more empty than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a late update! Just a fair warning, I may not be able to update on time next week as I am EXTREMELY busy. I'm talking tests and lots of events, so it'll probably be updated around the end of the week. Thanks bros <3
> 
> I used the word 'didn't' so many times it's not natural.


	14. The One and Only

Steve didn't know what to do. How they were supposed to carry out the plan and how he was supposed to make sure Bucky and Natasha were not dating anymore. He loved Natasha; she was one of his closest friends in the present-she'd always been there for him and always had his back. He only wished she and Bucky weren't in an intimate relationship. It was eating away at him, and not so slowly. He wished he could find a way out of the claws of HYDRA and have Bucky remember everything. Maybe they could ask Tony, although that would give away their ruse. There was no escape. The walls were closed in on them. HYDRA had engineered their mission perfectly. Go for help, they would be killed. Give anything away, they would be killed. Or maybe they'd wipe his mind and he would become a listless clone of himself and an even greater weapon for HYDRA. Or they'd torture Bucky in front of him. 

He couldn't think of anything worse.

Steve was supposed to be intelligent. But he couldn't find any gaps in the plan, or maybe he just didn't have the energy to.

"Steve, I'm worried about you," Natasha said, sitting down next to him on the couch. He snapped his sketchbook shut before she could peek inside. Knowing her, she probably had already. Her eyebrows were creased together. "You're being really weird. Did the right Steve come back?" she joked, not realising she wasn't far from the truth. "Come on, Rogers, spill." She crossed her arms defiantly, leaning back onto the back-rest. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on."

"I don't know," he lied. To be honest, he didn't actually understand his jumbled emotions that were raging around his head non-stop.

Natasha gave him a wry smile. "You're a terrible liar."

He paused for a moment, faking amusement for her own sake, even though she could see right through it. "Natasha, have you ever been in love?"

"Where did that come from?" she giggled, slapping his shoulder. "All deep now, are we?"

"Really, Nat."

"Well..." she sighed wistfully, looking off to something Steve couldn't place. "I have, yes. Still am, really I guess. Why?"

"Just curious," he shrugged, playing it off.

"Your records say you had a brief relationship with Margaret Carter." She eyed him. "Like Peggy Carter, the founder of S.H.I.E.L.D, right?"

Steve nodded emotionlessly, feeling a thicker cloud of gloom being to settle over him. "Yeah."

"Were you in love?" Natasha cocked her head. Steve could practically see the deft cogs in her brain twisting like lightning, wiring the connections together.

"I don't know," Steve said heavily. "I'm really not sure."

"Well, it sure as hell does look like you are now." She slipped a grape in her mouth, crunching down on it loudly. Steve stared at her.

"With Peggy?" he asked blankly, sitting ramrod straight.

"That's some pretty long lasting love Steve," she gave him a look. "Please don't tell me it's me."

"I-I don't think so," Steve spluttered. "Why would I be in love with you? That's absurd."

"James seems to have a reason," Natasha pointed out. He went purple immediately at the mention of their relationship. "What, you don't like it?" Natasha smirked. "We kiss _all_ the time."

"Natasha," Steve said tightly, feeling as though he would breathe fire any moment now. 

"He's a great boyfriend." She yammered on for several minutes before Steve stiffly stood up and strode swiftly to the door. Natasha followed him, still talking about how wonderful Bucky's lips felt.

 _Please shut up,_ he thought. Sooner or later he would begin to spout steam from his ears like a human kettle and surely she would be scared off. Knowing Natasha, she'd probably laugh at him instead. He kept storming around the tower, trying to drop Natasha but of course she skipped along to his swift pace.

"Natasha," he said in a pained voice after about fifteen minutes. She stopped. 

"Come on Steve, I'm _joking_. What's gotten into you?" Natasha pondered for a few moments. "Are you in love with-"

"I'm not in love!" Steve yelled. Natasha didn't flinch or shrink away, to her credit. But instead she stood her ground as Steve ran his hands through his hair. "Natasha, just... please stop."

"You need help." He blinked once and she'd vanished, silent as the night creeping up across the horizon, its dark fingers stretching to grasp the sun. A few minutes later, Natasha approached him upon cat's feet. With Bucky in her tow. Steve noticeably seized up, Bucky's shoulders clenching from across the hall. Natasha glanced between them a couple of times, a frown deepening on her face. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Steve began to sweat, not knowing why he was so nervous. "Why are you two so strange?" she muttered, stalking up to Bucky and planting a kiss on his cheek. Bucky held Steve's eye contact the entire time. Goosebumps prickled his arms, feeling an odd feeling sweep down his spine. He shivered, Bucky drinking in his every move. 

Natasha slowly backed away, calling, "If you don't talk, I will personally slit your throats open so I can take out your larynx. Or maybe your eyes so you can't goggle at each other like some weirdos about to square up for a fist fight. Or some crazy love sick teenagers. Except we all know that James is with me." She flashed Bucky a wink before slipping out like a shadow.

"Bucky," Steve said in a low voice. "What are we supposed to do? I don't know what we do now!"

"Build their trust." Bucky said in his gravelly tone. "Take your time. Enjoy it while you can. It will only get worse from here."

"Bucky, can't we just sort everything out?" he pleaded. "Is there a trigger for your memories? Can we find a way out? There's always a loophole. You know them better than me. Please, Buck." He clasped his hands together to no avail, Bucky's expression stone and unreadable.

He hesitated, walking forward a few steps and mechanically placing his hand on Steve's shoulder. He was avoiding his eyes again. Then his gaze slid to Steve's and something flashed in his eyes. His mouth moved but nothing came out and he shuddered. "Buck?" Steve asked worriedly. He suddenly collapsed, sagging against Steve. He clutched him, gently lowering him to the floor, gasping his name over and over again. "Bucky!"

Steve quickly hoisted him up, wrapping his arms around him and carefully picking him off the floor again. Why did this always seem to happen to them both? 


	15. CPR, Totally

"Bucky, please wake up," Steve said desperately, propping him up on his bed. Why did they always seem to get into the same situation? A thought slipped into his brain as he failed to rise Bucky, his limp frame still and unmoving. He didn't appear to be breathing, and in the army they'd been taught how to perform CPR if the situation demanded it. A strange feeling flitted in the pit of his stomach, which he immediately shoved down. Bucky's well-being came first, even if he couldn't remember anything. He wasn't sure if Bucky was 'well' in that sense.

Slowly, he leant down, hovering above Bucky's lips. Steve didn't know why he was taking so long, or why this was such a big deal. Pushing his jumbled emotions aside, he pressed his mouth to Bucky's. He felt a bolt of electricity shoot through his insides, a crest of wave soaring within him. Instantly Bucky jerked awake, the sudden movement surprising him. They both realised their lips were connected, however neither of them moved, their eyes wide.

"What are you _doing?_ " Natasha fumed, storming into the open doorway. " _Steve! That's my boyfriend!_ "

Bucky sat bolt-upright, knocking Steve's head in the process. He noticed he was practically lying across Bucky's lap.

"Natasha!" he squeaked. "I was just trying to perform CPR-"

"Sure," she said sarcastically, a murderous expression on her face, "lame excuse Rogers." She marched over, grabbed Bucky's hand and tried to wrench him out of the way. 

"Natalia," Bucky said in a dark tone. 

"What now?" Natasha said impatiently, her eyes flicking between them both. A furrow appeared between her sharp, angled brows.

"I was unconscious, Natalia. Please could you leave us for a moment, Steve?" His tone was robotic. He was beginning to sound like a puppet again, manipulated by HYDRA's deft fingers dancing on his strings. 

"B-James-" he began. He was silenced by Bucky's lingering, ice cold stare. He leapt off the bed and hurried outside, hanging by the empty doorway. 

"What was that?" Natasha exploded, somehow managing to keep quiet. 

"Natalia," he paused. "Calm down. It's none of your business."

"Business? James, you're my boyfriend and now you're cheating on me with Steve?" She laughed bitterly. "Look, I love you both, but I'm disappointed. I thought you cared about me too." Now instead of sounding angry she sounded hurt, which was worse. Steve felt extremely guilty, even though it was completely innocent and he hadn't actually kissed Bucky. Why would he do that? It wasn't like he was in love with him or anything, which would be extremely weird. In love with his best friend? Let alone the fact that said best friend was also a man, just like him.

"Natalia, that was nothing." Steve couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of pain in his chest. "Steve doesn't mean anything to me." He thought his heart stopped. "He's my best friend, of course, but other than that, I can't imagine why you'd think we were in some sort of secret relationship."

"Why were you kissing then?" Natasha broke into hysterical giggles. "You're hilarious, you know."

"I was unconscious and Steve was trying to revive me." Bucky replied calmly. The lack of emotion in his voice reminded him of an empty shell, the Winter Soldier. There was another silence, and Steve could almost see the staring competition.

"Fine," Natasha said grudgingly. "C'mere, you idiot." Steve imagined them kissing, cringing quite noticeably to the passing eye. He hastily knocked on the wall next to the door, letting them know he was still there.

"You guys done yet?" He tried to ward the disgust from his voice as he stuck his head around the corner. Natasha twirled a finger in her hair absent-mindedly, yet at the same time seeming to take note of every action Steve made.

"Yes, we are, Steve." Natasha smiled at him, earning a pained grimace in return which was obviously supposed to be a smile. Maybe she was purposely trying to get a reaction out of him. Since it was Natasha, probably true. Natasha sashayed out the door, not before blowing a kiss to Bucky. Steve clenched his fist. _Being a third wheel is not fun_ , he decided.

He took a hesitant step towards Bucky. "Bucky, what happened to you? Are you okay?" Worry laced his tone and he desperately wanted to take his face in his hands.

"You used to get sick all the time," Bucky said randomly. Confusion flickered across his features. He stopped.

"I did," Steve said slowly. "Did you-did you just remember...?" A wave of hope swelled, threatening to crash.

"I don't think so," Bucky said blankly. "It was always there." Steve felt as though he would burst with happiness. He longed to rush forward and envelop Bucky in a hug, but instead settled for a stiff pat on his shoulder.

"If you two are done with your cheesy moment," Sam popped his head into the room, "then Tony's organised dinner. He wants to introduce his kid or something I think."

"Fine, we're coming," Steve replied grudgingly. Just when he thought Bucky would remember everything, of course he didn't. The wave shrank back until there was nothing left, just a dried up little puddle. They ambled down to the kitchen area, seating themselves flatly, Steve beside a teenager he didn't recognise and Bucky next to Natasha, across from him. 

"Oh my gosh! Captain America!" the teenager exclaimed. "It's-it's so good to meet you!" He eagerly stuck his hand out. "I'm Peter by the way. Peter Parker."

"Uh, nice to meet you too?" he said, bewildered and a little overwhelmed by his sheer enthusiasm. 

"Ah, Cap, I see you've met my-" Tony began.

"Is this your son Tony?" Natasha said in an amused tone.

"No, he's my apprentice? Is that the word?" he looked to Peter.

"Intern, actually." Peter was brimming with excitement, practically bouncing up and down with energy. "Oh wow, that's Black Widow, there's the Falcon, this is amazing!" He grinned at Tony. "Thank you so much Mr Stark!"

Natasha muttered something in Russian, leaning onto Bucky's shoulder. He looked a little uncomfortable before maintaining eye-contact with Steve and placing a hand on Natasha's back, a strange look in his eyes that Steve couldn't decipher. Was it some sort of challenge? Steve felt like he would flip the table. Conversation went on, mostly Peter firing questions at the other quickly tiring members of the Avengers who couldn't keep up with his level of energy. Steve's thoughts drifted to his and Bucky's almost-kiss. He didn't know how to feel about it. He must have been staring because Peter leant over to him and whispered, "I'm guessing you don't really ship them?"

Steve jumped, his chin slipping from where it had been laid on his knuckles. "U-uh, what?"

He jutted his head in the direction of Bucky and Natasha. "You don't really like them as a couple? Or want them together or something?"

He sighed heavily. "I guess you could say that."

"Which one do you like? Is it Natasha or the guy with the metal arm?" Peter rubbed his hands together. "Juicy details."

"What do you mean 'like'?" he asked, confused.

"Do you romantically like one of them? You don't have to tell me, but I'm curious." Steve pursed his lips and took a swig of water, avoiding the question for as long as possible. However, when Natasha planted a kiss square on Bucky's lips and lingered, sliding deft fingers behind his neck, he conveniently choked on his drink, shattering the glass in his hand in unison. That gave Peter a pretty good answer. "So you do!"

"I-don't," Steve coughed, standing up from the table and stumbling to the bathroom.

"You shouldn't put away your feelings for much longer!" Peter called after him. Just as well no one could see him, he thought, knowing that his face was burning redder than the sun. Stifled giggles trailed after him, and he could feel Natasha's gaze searing a hole into his back. She knew something was up. Even Steve didn't know what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, don't get me wrong- Nat is my QUEEN, OKAY? Thank you. Stream Black Widow when it comes out in cinemas (and Wandavision IM SO EXCITED) This one's a little longer, and now we have Peter! Yayyy


	16. Dancing Around

Steve leant heavily on the bathroom sink, arms shaking. There was nothing between him and Bucky. _Nothing_. He squeezed his eyes shut. He would take everything in stride, as always. It wasn't a big issue. Not at all. He breathed in and out slowly.

"Steve?" Someone knocked on the door quietly.

"Come in," he said, trying to hide his voice crack. He watched in the mirror as Bucky slipped in the door, probably having picked the lock somehow.

"Are you alright?" he asked slowly. "Is it something-"

"Nothing," Steve interrupted, forcing a wan smile onto his face. "I just felt a little dizzy."

"Since when do super-soldiers feel dizzy?" Bucky said quizzically. Was it just Steve, or was Bucky making an unintentional joke? "Um, Natalia wanted me to tell you that Tony's organising a movie after dinner. If you want to skip out on it, I'll join you. Well I mean-"

"That'd be nice," Steve cut in. "I'll go to the movie thing if..."

"If what?"

"If Natasha doesn't keep snuggling up to you. I feel sick." He shook his head, breathing deeply.

"Alright then," Bucky said finally, staring at him through the mirror. Steve splashed water on his face and then whipped around, grabbing Bucky's hand and softly opening the door. He guided them to the stairs, pushing open the door. "Why the stairs? Can't we just take the elevator?"

"Until Tony starts his movie or whatever, we're going to the roof. I want to waste as much time as possible." He glanced back to see Bucky's eyes shining.

"Okay," he whispered. They both thundered up the stairs, taking two or sometimes three at a time, Steve still gripping his hand the entire way. His lungs burned the slightest bit as they reached the 88th floor, but it was a nice reminder that he was still alive. He _did_ feel awake, racing up the Tower stairs clutching Bucky's hand in his. Yet at the same time it felt as though it was fit from a dream, the sort of thing that would only happen when he was asleep. Too good to be true, but Steve drank in every moment.

Finally, after all ninety-three floors were surpassed, they burst through the door to the roof. The biting night air nipped at Steve's skin, though it did little to affect him. Bucky, however, beside him trembled the smallest fraction. 

"It's so big," he breathed after his heart-rate slowed. His grasp tightened almost to the point where Steve's blood circulation was cut off. He ignored it, instead focusing on Bucky's sharp features softening as he gazed out over the city, lit up by bright lights that pierced the dark.

"A lot bigger than the 40's, isn't it?" Steve gently tugged on Bucky's hand, leading him over to the edge of the building. They didn't sit quite on the rim to let their legs dangle over the chasm of emptiness, as Steve knew Bucky wasn't particularly fond of heights. Instead they leant against a large vent, Steve scooting closer to Bucky, resting his head against his shoulder. He felt him tense up before he sank down, hesitantly placing his hand on Steve's knee. Steve felt as though everything was exploding. In a good way, of course. As good things happen when things explode. (In Steve's experience, not much good came out of things exploding.)

"It's a nice view for a change," Bucky decided. _Not as nice as you,_ Steve thought, tilting his head so he could see Bucky's expression. Then immediately after, _Where did that come from?_ He mentally slapped himself. _You can't think weird things about your MALE best friend,_ he chided. His hair blew in the wind delicately, and Steve quickly sat up and in a flash, tucked it behind his ear before he could stop himself. Bucky trailed his metal fingers up and down the seams on Steve's jeans, while clinging to his hand all the while, his flesh warmed by Steve's. He let out a little sigh, feeling completely content with his best friend by his side, momentarily forgetting the plan they would have to carry out, and Natasha downstairs, probably slowly piecing everything together. He forgets about it all except for Bucky, who for once seems to be at peace, as well as someone like him can. 

In the silence that was filled only by the sound of traffic and the occasional bird, an echo of music drifted up to them, a song that reminded Steve too much of themselves.

_Never thought that you would be_   
_standing here so close to me_   
_there's so much I feel that I should say_   
_but words can wait until some other day_

_Kiss me once, then kiss me twice_   
_Then kiss me once again_   
_It's been a long, long time_   
_Haven't felt like this, my dear..._

"Hey," he nudged Bucky lightly, standing up and offering him a hand. "We should dance. You taught me when we were-"

"Sixteen." Bucky broke him off. "I said that... that..."

"'You need to learn how to dance, Stevie'," Steve filled in. "I was never really good, anyway."

"Sure," Bucky scoffed, jumping up and grabbing his hands, swinging him around away from the brink of the Tower. He put his hand on Steve's waist, as he watched him with fascination. Steve intertwined his fingers with Bucky's metal ones, wrapping his arm around his back and leaning into his touch. Bucky was remembering more. Maybe HYDRA was toying with him. He dared to hope that everything would solve itself, that everything would be resolved. Surely in some reality they were happy. 

_...since I can't remember when_   
_It's been a long, long time_   
_You'll never know how many dreams_   
_I've dreamed about you_

_Or just how empty they all seemed without you.._.

They swayed around, bodies pressed close together. Steve inhaled Bucky's scent, his eyes fluttering shut. The moment was absolutely perfect. No one to watch them. The melody floated around them, the words blending together. Bucky twirled him around, a laugh creeping out of Steve's mouth.

"Uhhhh," someone said uncertainly. "The movie's starting?" They both twisted to see Tony standing awkwardly, holding a glass of champagne. "Sorry to interrupt... But I don't know how Nat's gonna feel about this..." 

"It's just a friend thing," Steve assured him, a touch of blush highlighting his cheeks. Tony gave them a strange look. 

"Maybe... just come downstairs now." So they did, following him down to the movie theatre like puppies who had done something wrong. They seated themselves on a small couch that could barely fit them both so they were squished together. Natasha was eyeing them suspiciously from the other side of the room, but she ended up having a quiet chat with Wanda, who giggled every few seconds at something Natasha said. She was smiling, too. Steve curled up against Bucky, grinning up at him sleepily. Bucky touched the side of his face softly, a small smile gracing his features. _That's pretty,_ he thought in a sleepy haze as he fell unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! To be honest, I am becoming low-key annoyed at Steve and Bucky right now. ME.


	17. Hold Me Close

Steve glanced sleepily up at Bucky, who was no longer watching the movie, but staring at him fondly instead. He blinked through his tired haze, chasing away the wisps of delightful dreams that skipped through his conscious. He immediately squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know how long he had been asleep for, but now it seemed like they were playing a different movie. He felt something caress his face gently.

Then Bucky's voice said, "I'm going to take Steve up to bed." What Steve didn't expect for him to do was hoist him up, tucking his arms underneath his legs and carrying him upstairs. It was way better than being 'awake' and walking. He wrapped himself around Bucky's neck, nuzzling into his warm chest. 

"Mm," he hummed. Bucky smelled nice. A little like fresh mountain air and leather, yet there was a hidden layer of crisp sweetness that smelt like heaven to Steve's nose.

He couldn't tell if Bucky knew he was asleep or was playing along with him. He sincerely hoped that Bucky was gaining his memories, and he was desperate to ask. It seemed as though he was. If HYDRA didn't give him his freedom, Steve would beat them into submission before any of them could X both him and Bucky out. Bucky had been trapped for over seventy years, and it cut a deeper wound into Steve's heart every time he thought about it.

Every day that passed with the Avengers bore no new fruit, except Natasha's growing suspicions. She probably implanted cameras into both of their rooms. She was also probably putting her skills as a former spy into play.

Steve was relishing the moment until he felt himself slowly be placed down on a bed. He quickly snapped open his eyes to see Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed, studying him in the moonlight that crept through the gauze curtains. "Buck," he whispered. Bucky jumped a little, nervously licking his lips.

"H-hi." Steve sat up so he was facing him. Bucky didn't move a muscle as he leant forward and enveloped him in an embrace, until he relaxed and rested against him, curling himself against Steve and sliding his arms around his waist. They sat there peacefully, uninterrupted except for the night birds twittering in the background and the sounds of the movie from down below them. It was very nice, Bucky's scent rolling over Steve in blissful waves. He sighed deeply. 

"Can you stay with me tonight?" he asked softly. Bucky nodded against his shoulder after a pause.

"Okay," he said quietly, disentangling himself from Steve so he could lie down on the bed. Steve swaddled them both in the blankets and then cuddled up to Bucky, throwing an arm over him. Bucky let out a contented hum, burying his face in Steve's chest. He always slept better with Bucky.

_He could see him falling._

_"Bucky!" he screamed. He rolled over. Was it real? His anguished cry rang in his ears. He stretched his hand out. Again and again and again he could never catch him. Slipping through his fingers like smoke._

_Please come back to me. Please._

_Remember me._

_I'm here for you._

_Please._

His own name echoed through his brain. Was it his? Or was it someone else's? _Steve. Steve._ Someone pleading, someone's hands on his face, ghosting over his lips. _Please wake up. I'm here._

"Steve!" Bucky yelled. He burst awake with a shout, tumbling over onto Bucky, their legs ensnared with one another, pressed so close. He realised he was sitting on top of Bucky's hips, a violent blush splitting across his face.

Natasha exploded into the room. "What are you doing!" she squawked. "I-I knew it! I've caught you both! You're in the middle of-"

"Wh-what?!" Steve squeaked. "Um-"

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," Bucky said throatily. His chest was heaving and his neck was covered in a sheen of sweat. Steve looked down at himself to see that his own shirt was drenched.

Natasha laughed, but there wasn't a drop of humour in it. "This is exactly what it looks like. You're _cheating_ on me, James."

"Uh, what?" Tony gaped. "Cap, what the hell?"

"No! We were just, you know, sleeping together. It's very normal!" he tried to explain, his voice still a few tones higher than he would've liked.

She wrinkled her nose. "Then why are you sitting on his legs? I'm disappointed, Steve." She turned to Tony. "It's like how they kissed and I walked in on them."

"It was CPR," Bucky corrected, butting in. "He's not anything more than-"

"A friend," Steve finished, feeling a burn in his chest. It felt like a parasite, growing larger with every jab at Steve's fragile heart. He hadn't been like this before, he thought to himself, rubbing his head and spreading sweat everywhere.

"Hey, Steve can I talk to you for a moment?" Tony asked, not letting him answer before grabbing his bicep and dragging him out of the room. "Look," he said once they were out of earshot, "you're a great friend. Sometimes. I meant when we argue, it's bad. But I don't want you to break Nat's heart. That's just cruel. I know she's your friend too, so please just stay out of that mess. I don't know much about James, but I think that relationship just came out of nowhere. It's a little weird, but... And so WHAT if you and James-"

"That's enough, Tony," Steve interrupted. "We-there's nothing between us, I swear."

"That didn't look like nothing. There hasn't been enough time for anything, but..." 

Tony rambled on and on but Steve didn't hear him. He was fixated on one particular word. _Time._

"Time," he said slowly. His brain was finally working again. "That's it!" he exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. "Tony, you're a genius." He scooped Tony into a hug.

"I know," he replied, bewildered. "Okay, Cap, you can put me down now."

"Hey, can you maybe tell me a bit about the rules of time?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another late update!! :( At least there's a little fluff and some more progress with the story :3 Does that count as a cliffhanger?


	18. Just a Little More Time

"Why time?" Tony asked, a bewildered expression taking over his face. "Is there something I'm supposed to know-"

"No, not really," Steve said, grabbing him by the shoulder and guiding him down the hall at a fast pace. "Please tell me all you know about the rules of time. This is really important. I'm talking 'changing my life' important."

"Why your life?" Tony scoffed. "Shouldn't this affect me, too? After all, I'm doing you a favour."

"Please, Tony," Steve begged. "This is really important to me. Could you do it for a friend?" 

Tony huffed indignantly. "Fine. But only because you're one of my colleagues and Fury would go all Fast 'n' Furious on me."

"Thank you, Tony," Steve said genuinely, sniffing the tiniest bit.

"Ugh, don't get all weepy on me now, Cap." Tony said grudgingly, patting him on the back. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Could you also build a time machine?" he cut in. Tony's eyes were practically bulging out of his head. His jaw was on the floor and he didn't say anything for a few good seconds.

"I'd say you're out of your mind, Cap," he sputtered. "I mean, I can try. But doesn't mean I'm going to give you access. I don't even know what you're doing!"

"I'm trying to save my friend." Tony eyed him, studying him deeply. 

"No."

"Tony-"

"It's too risky, Cap. I can't. I'm really sorry." He did look sorry, too, but Steve didn't really care. He was supposed to kill him. Although he was annoyed, he couldn't stand the haunting image of Tony lying on the ground, limbs splayed and those bright, intelligent eyes unseeing. He would know the reason blood leaking from Tony's chest was because of him. 

"Okay then," he said softly. Surely there was another solution. Or maybe Bruce could help him. 

Steve stumbled back to his room blurrily, then quickly changed direction and rubbed his eyes, instead going to the kitchen. He ripped open the door to the floor-to-ceiling pantry, reaching for the freezer and grabbing a ginormous tub of ice-cream. He never stress ate. He had no clue why he was slouching on the carpet in front of the TV, playing boxing matches and sniffling into his strawberry ice-cream. 

"Uh, Steve?" Sam's voice said from somewhere above him. He pointedly ignored him and scooped more ice-cream into his mouth. 

"Go away Sam," he coughed. "I'm busy."

"Busy doing what? Crying into your tub of whatever-it-was and watching boxing?"

"Bucky used to do boxing," Steve said sadly, on the verge of sobbing. "He was champion three times-"

"Who's Bucky?" Sam asked quizzically, crouching down to his level. Steve suddenly realised that he called Bucky 'James' in front of the other Avengers.

"No-no one," he stuttered, forcing a pained grimace on his face that was supposed to be a smile. 

"Sure, 'cause you're having a cry fest. Should I go find whoever it is? I'm sure he can help you," Sam said gently, massaging Steve's shoulder. "Put your ice-cream stuff away and then go to bed. You look sleep deprived, man."

"I can't solve the problem," Steve blubbered. "And-and- I really love-" He gasped in deep breaths of air to fill his lungs. He was never like this.

"Love who?" Wanda giggled, folding her legs underneath her beside Sam. 

"No one," Steve muttered. "Just my ice-cream."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam give Wanda a look. He leant over to whisper something in his ear, completely forgetting that Steve still had enhanced hearing, no matter what emotional state he was in.

"I think he's in love," he hissed. Wanda's eyes widened in sympathy, and she patted his knee kindly. 

"It's okay, Steve. We can help you. Sam and I will talk to him and I know he loves you back."

"It's not a man!" Steve wailed. "He's-I mean she's-out of my league!"

Sam and Wanda exchanged another conspirational glance. "Whatever you say."

"He doesn't love me back. She."

"What's going on now?" Natasha sighed, plopping down too. Wanda giggled, twisting her hands in her lap as she looked at Natasha. Natasha didn't seem to notice anything off about her, even though Steve could sense her whole demeanour shifted.

"Steve's in love," Wanda said bashfully. "It's adorable. He won't say who, though."

"He was moping about someone called Bucky." Sam added unhelpfully. Surely Natasha would put together the pieces. At that, her eyes narrowed to green slits. 

"Uh huh," she said coolly. "And who is this Bucky?"

"Absolutely nobody." 

"Hey Steve, did you know they made a museum exhibit about you?" Natasha asked sweetly. Steve gulped, trying to swallow down worry that began to bubble up. "You know, I went to that Captain America museum a couple of days ago for fun," she said casually, picking at her nails. "There was someone by the name of Bucky. He was Steve's best friend, apparently. Guess who he looked just like." Steve began sweating, fiddling with his spoon in the ice-cream tub. _Please don't say Bucky,_ he prayed silently. But of course he couldn't do a thing.

"I have no idea." Wanda replied innocently. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You know what, I'm gonna bet James." 

Natasha grinned slyly. "You won the bet, Sam. The photo was exactly James. Except he looked a little younger, didn't have long hair or a beard. I think there's something fishy going on here, Steve. Oh, don't forget the fact that his full name was 'James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes'. Wow, what a coincidence." She leant towards Steve. "Don't forget, I was a spy. I know the game from the back of my hand. I think I know what you're doing."

"Nat," Sam warned. "What are you talking about?" Wanda turned, concerned, to Natasha, who's eyes were glinting dangerously.

"I will find out what you're trying to do, Steve. Hiding won't help. And please, while you're at it, don't steal my boyfriend."

Steve could barely breathe. "Nat, I-"

"Steve, you're in cold water right now. Thin ice. Whatever analogy you wanna use. But trust me on this, I will stop what grand scheme you're planning. I have a feeling what's happened. It's happened to me, too." For a moment, her expression softened. "I can help you with this. Just fess up and we can all fix it."

"Steve, she's right." Wanda said gently. "I don't know what's going on, but telling us would solve the problem."

 _Not unless you wanna die,_ Steve added silently. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, staring around at all their worried faces. 

"I can't. I'm sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me or am I losing reads? Hm Also the next chapter is my fave!


	19. Break Free

Whispers followed Steve as he walked through Avengers Tower. Something to do with Natasha and Bucky, although they called him James. A few days later after the voices stopped, Steve was still trying to brainstorm ideas of how he could save Bucky. Maybe he could ask Bruce what to do. And just never mention anything. He was on his way to Bruce's lab when he heard the sound of muffled sobbing. Even though he felt extremely nosy, he trailed the sound of the crying until he came to... Natasha's room. 

"Nat?" he knocked softly on the door. There was no answer. So he inched the door open to find Natasha sitting across from Bucky, who was pouring his heart out to her. Tears were streaming down his face and she rubbed his back, holding him close. Her own eyes were wet and red rimmed, but she refrained from doing anything else to give the hint that she was feeling the same way.

"I can't do this any longer," Bucky wept between gasps, the sobs tearing through his body. The sound fractured Steve's heart, and he longed to be in Natasha's place. However, the topic seemed to imply that Bucky couldn't have felt comfortable talking to Steve about it. He desperately wondered what it was. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Natasha said dully. "I knew it wasn't going to work. I saw the way you looked-" She halted abruptly, seeing Steve in the doorway. "Go talk to him," she told him tenderly, smiling at him before leading him over to Steve. She subtly wiped her eyes before nodding at him briefly. The door shut as soon as Bucky was in the hallway with him.

"Steve," he babbled. He leant his head against his chest, wrapping his arms around him.

"Buck, what's wrong?" he soothed, brushing his hair back from his face and carefully wiping the tears from his cheeks. He cupped Bucky's face in his hands, gazing into his glassy eyes. "I'm here. I won't let anything bad happened to you. I'm with you till the end of the line, okay?"

Bucky's head shot up immediately. "What did you say?" he breathed.

Steve's brow furrowed. "I won't let anything bad happened to you? I'm sorry, was that too sappy?"

"No, after that."

"I'm with you till the end of the line?"

He stumbled back, a sharp gasp wrenched from his throat. When he looked at him again, it was like seeing him in a whole new light.

"Steve," he whispered. "Steve."

"Yes, it's me Buck," he said cautiously, not daring to hope. But when he looked at Bucky, his eyes looked different. As though his true self had fully shone through after all these months, instead of being an empty shell inhabited by HYDRA's puppet. Shards of him had begun to leak through and now all the pieces were assembled properly. His lip trembled as he slowly reached out to touch Steve's cheekbone, then slowly ran down to his jawline.

"I remember you." His voice cracked. "I remember everything about you. With you." He paused. "I love you, Steve."

His heart couldn't take much more. "I-I love you too, Bucky." Bucky stepped forward and enveloped him in a deep embrace, tight and warm. They stood there for who knew how long, silent tears dripping onto their clothes, heartbeats racing each other. Finally, Bucky tilted his head up. Steve inhaled. Slowly, ever so gently, as though not to startle him, Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead. Their eyes both fluttered shut. 

"Steve," Bucky said again, although this time his tone was different. He couldn't quite place it, although it sounded longing. "Can we go up to the roof again?"

"Yes."

"We're taking the stairs," Bucky added. "Race you there!" He immediately took off with no other warning, almost at the other end of the corridor already.

"Hey!" Steve yelled, sprinting after him. "Come back here you cheater!" His laughter floated down the hall back to him. He didn't understand how things could so abruptly whip back to normal, before the war when they were both happy. It was most likely unrealistic, but he still grasped it with both hands. He burst through the stairwell door, which had already been swinging from Bucky's entrance. He could hear his footsteps thundering above him. Biting back a smile, he leapt up the stairs a few at a time.

Finally he reached the roof, a good few seconds after Bucky, jogging to where he was sitting near the edge of the building again, staring out over the city. The sounds of the cars and night birds was their music, the pulsing lull of the life beating around them. "Hey cheater," he grinned, seating himself so he was flush against Bucky's side. Bucky slid his arm around his waist, and Steve laid his head against his shoulder, releasing a content sigh.

"It's good to remember everything," Bucky said softly, smiling down at Steve. His heart fluttered, about to take off and soar. 

"I'm really glad, Buck," Steve replied. He had never felt happier, apart from the time when Steve and Bucky had gone to Coney Island and he was peer pressured to ride the Cyclone and ended up throwing up on the cotton candy Bucky bought him afterwards. He remembered the other times when Bucky had set Steve up with other girls he didn't know and gone on double dates, but Steve always walked beside Bucky, their hands brushing. Bucky always bought Steve some kind of food (much to his annoyance, even though he always ate it grudgingly) and completely ignored his date, reserving his large smiles for Steve and Steve only. 

The moment was like that now. 

It was nothing short of perfect. 

"Hey Steve," Bucky prodded. 

"Mm?"

"Look at me." He turned his head to the side, and Bucky gently tilted his chin up with one of his metal fingers. "Before I was talking with Natalia about my crush."

Steve blanched inwardly. So he had a crush on Natasha? But it didn't make sense... "Oh." He hesitated for a few seconds before forcing on a false mask of bravado. "That's great Buck. I'm happy for you." He smiled, although the loneliness slipped through his facade.

"Steve," Bucky repeated. He seemed like he couldn't get enough of saying his name. "Look at me." He shifted his gaze back to Bucky. What if... "Well, it's not really a crush. And... I also broke up with her."

"Because of me?" Steve asked, feeling a sense of terrible crush him. "I'm sorry I kept pressuring you guys to stop dating, it's just-"

"No, no, actually," Bucky chuckled, the sound deep and reverberating throughout Steve's chest. "I mean, it kinda was because of you. But you didn't really... do anything. Except be yourself."

"Huh?"

"My words aren't enough for this," Bucky muttered and angled them both so they were facing each other properly. He leaned in so Steve could feel his breath ghosting over his lips, fanning over his face delicately. Steve could barely breathe. He closed his eyes as he felt Bucky leaning in further so he could sense the phantom of his lips. Steve slipped his hands into Bucky's, not wanting to bear the outcome alone. Maybe it didn't matter. Because even if the worst happened, Bucky would always be with him to help figure it out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) finally
> 
> You know, I was sorely tempted to make it a dream, but then we'd be back on square one again... Be grateful  
> I'm feeling generous this week, so I dunno if I'll update next week (I probably will)


	20. So Right

Slowly, ever so slowly, as though neither wanted to damage the other, their lips gently pressed against one another. Bucky had never felt such clarity before. It was as everything had been in a monotone, shades of black and white, so blank, and now everything was bursting with colour. Steve made him feel _alive_. His lips were incredibly, impossibly soft, delicate and sweet. Bucky was trembling in his touch. Everything flooded back to him at once- the longing hours he spent pining over Steve, the painful days when HYDRA had first forced his brain into a blender when he screamed over and over for Steve to come save him.

Now Steve's lips were moving against his, and the world had never felt so crisp and clear, so fragile in the palms of his hands, ready to shatter at the slightest push. The stars glistened above them, and the moon smiled its mysterious smile down upon them. The wind danced around them, swirling their clothes as their mouths moved in a rhythm that matched each others. 

He nearly whimpered into Steve's mouth, savouring his touch. Hopefully they stayed like this forever. Steve's hands were cupping his cheeks, and his own were roaming, exploring Steve's face and his neck and his chest. Finally they broke away for air, Bucky grasping Steve's back as he leant into him, murmuring his name repeatedly.

"Bucky, Bucky, Bucky," Steve whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too," Bucky said breathlessly. It felt so good to finally say it out loud. They had never been allowed to say it when they were younger; it was an unspoken rule that no one said. However, Bucky knew it was still 'wrong' and 'unnatural' but he never thought Steve reciprocated his feelings. Bucky had always tried to be subtle and not give any hints, no matter how tempted he was. Hopefully Steve would just see it as playful banter, he'd thought.

He had no idea how either of them crossed the line in the first place. He was glad they did. The feeling of really being able to feel Steve was so perfect no words could describe it. If he tried, he would say that it made him like he could fly, like nothing would stop them as long as they had each other. It was real. And they were each other's. It was so right, Bucky felt as though he was following every single rule he had already broken before. An unbreakable bond that nobody could snap. He'd wait another seventy years for Steve. 

He knew Steve would do the same for him, too.

It was so different to being trapped in his own mind, a prisoner of his own will, stuck in a glass cage where he could see every thing his body did. He could remember every single one of them before he could properly recall who Steve was, his face buried in his memories that were shackled to his core. It may not have been his choice, but the years he had spent, kicking and screaming silently when no one could hear him told him that it was his fault that he wasn't strong enough to break free.

But Steve whispered sweet nothings to him, telling he loved him and holding him close, even when he couldn't stand the physical touch. It had reminded him of all the times when pain had lashed down on him, due to the courtesy of HYDRA. Some of it was all in his brain. Not all of it was real, unlike Steve. 

They were making up for all the years they missed together, now.

"I'm with you till the end of the line, Stevie," Bucky said softly, caressing Steve's jawline lightly. Steve's lip wobbled, so he leant back in for another kiss. 

"I'm so stupid, Buck," Steve muttered against his mouth. "I couldn't even see my own love. I'm blind."

"No, you're not," Bucky murmured, kissing the side of Steve's temple. "I was silly. I should've said something before. We weren't allowed to love each other. It's not your fault."

"I really am. I should be helping you recover after all these times you helped me when I was sick or got into a fight," Steve protested.

"It wasn't a duty, Steve, I wanted to. Because I liked taking care of you, no matter how many times you told me you didn't need my help. Such a stubborn punk." He laughed, remembering every time Steve had scowled and shook his head when Bucky had to make him soup in bed or something. "It was actually nice."

Steve just gave him the exact same look from nearly seventy-five years earlier. "I want to go hold you and sleep."

"Okay."

Steve paused. "Is Natasha alright?"

"She's fine." Bucky hesitated. "It's just... I think she realised that I didn't exactly love her back."

"Poor Nat."

"Don't worry, I'll talk to her after. See, I was so silly that I couldn't see it myself." He chuckled humourlessly. "I must be that thickheaded."

"You were." 

"Gee, thanks," he snorted before turning to go to their room. "Also, I want a haircut soon. And we have to sort out our little issue before you-know-who figures out I remember things."

Steve slipped his hand into Bucky's. He felt the warmth that Steve radiated reach him like the sun's rays, pulsing heat. His eyes held such love, and they were focused on Bucky. Those beautiful, crystal clear sky blue eyes that stayed the same throughout Steve's transformation into a supersoldier. That was the part of Steve he loved the most, that reminded him of those times before the serum when they were just normal. But then, they didn't have their relationship like now, when they could kiss each other freely. His smile was so pure he felt like he didn't deserve it every time it shone at him.

As they opened the door to Steve's room (Bucky never really used his much now, he always came to Steve), Steve shucked off his shirt. Bucky felt his face go purple, even though back in the day, he'd usually been the first to do it, smirking all the while. "Do you-you want to-" he squeaked out.

Steve smiled. "Just sleep for now, Buck. Get comfortable."

So Bucky did, and it was the most comfortable he had felt in over seventy years, cradling Steve in his arms, barely anything separating them. He had never had time to feel comfortable before, but now he was soothed in his own skin, and nothing had ever felt so perfect. He couldn't stop kissing Steve's shoulder or his back, feeling him hum in appreciation, sometimes even turn around to return it. His heart swelled each time he was reminded that it was real. 

Now he just had to make sure it stayed that way, and never change again. They would find a way. Just like they always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're nearing the end folks. thank you for 2K reads!!! <3 also I can't post next week cos I have loadsa tests and im just really busy. sorry :(


	21. The Witch and Her Widow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is subtitled 'waffles' for good reason.

The next morning, Steve blinked his eyes open to come face to face with Bucky's bare shoulder. He smiled into him, contentment washing through him. Bucky shifted in his sleep and turned around so he was facing Steve. He was still asleep, his features peacefully resting. Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead, hardly believing that it was real. Memories from the night before rushed through his mind like an ocean swell. Bucky remembered. He remembered him. The thought couldn't stop a grin from breaking on his face.

The tiniest crease appeared between Bucky's brows. "Hey," Steve cooed. Bucky murmured something incoherent in his sleep. "I'm right here, Buck." Immediately, all the tension released from his shoulders, and the furrow on his face smoothed out. Steve cradled Bucky a little closer, feeling his own eyes flutter closed once more.

  
They both woke for real a couple of hours later, getting changed to go and grab something to eat. Steve was anxious about seeing Natasha downstairs, worried about how she was faring and not wanting to be confronted at the same time. He trailed behind Bucky as he crept to the fridge to grab some bread. 

Steve barely made two steps into the kitchen before Natasha called out, "Hello, Steve." He was grateful he didn't jump by sheer will. 

"Nat," he replied calmly (or as fake calmly as he could).

He twisted on his heel to see her sitting on the couch, facing the TV with a nature program on a level so low his ears could barely detect it. Her eyes weren't focused on it, however; they were staring at Steve's reflection on the screen. Wanda was cuddled up next to her wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown, and Natasha glared daggers at his reflection. He watched Wanda glance up to Natasha, a tiny smile unfurling on her lips. Natasha's eyes flicked down to her, her expression mirroring Wanda's before she finally fully faced Steve.

"So, uh, how're you going?"

"I'm great, thank you," she said pleasantly. "How was your first kiss since 1945?"

"I never said-" he stammered.

"I know all, Rogers." She waved a hand dismissively. "Now let me watch my nature thingo that Wanda so kindly chose for us." She winked and wrapped an arm around Wanda's shoulders protectively.

"There are plenty of fish in the sea, Nat." Steve gave her a thumbs up.

 _Trust me, I know,_ she mouthed back. _This is my fish. Also, you'd better stop snooping around with whatever you're up to._

He held his hands up in mock surrender, pointing a finger in Bucky's direction. "Don't worry, I've got my own fish." he chuckled.

"I like salmon," Wanda said, completely missing the point. Natasha began giggling uncontrollably. Wanda looked at her. "What?"

"I like trout, actually," Bucky interrupted, grinning and walking up to sling a casual arm around Steve's waist. "Hey," he murmured, kissing his cheek. "Do you want breakfast or are you gonna just stand there? I mean, that's a very interesting program you're watching. I can barely hear it. And I'm a-"

"Really great at hearing things, stickybeak," Steve interrupted, trying not to blow their cover. Still, the little niggling thing at the back of his mind was still pressuring him not to do anything that could get them killed by HYDRA.

"Relax," Bucky muttered under his breath. "We'll figure something out, promise."

"Okay, okay." Steve took a deep breath in before leaving Natasha and Wanda, who were conspiratorially whispering, going back to the fridge and grabbing an apple. 

"An apple?" Bucky scoffed. "Seriously Steve, you can't just have an apple for breakfast."

"An apple a day helps keep the doctor away."

"You don't need a doctor, you punk!"

He shrugged, unable to hide his affection at the nickname. "Jerk."

"Wow, you guys practically are an old married couple," Tony marvelled, sliding in on his socks with a small squeal on the tiles.

"You're such a kid, Stark," Natasha complained. "You're disrupting the turtles!"

Steve rolled his eyes at his friends and instead snatched the necessary ingredients to make waffles. A few minutes later, the kitchen was filled with smoke. 

"Well," Tony said finally, smirking at Steve. "It turns out I can't cook."

"I never asked for your help, Tony," he sighed. "You just _had_ to interfere."

"So it's my fault, now huh? What did I ever do to you?"

"Exist," Wanda yelled. "Come on Tasha, let's teach these idiots how to do it. Parents need to teach their sons how to cook too, not just the girls." Natasha grumbled as she was shovelled into the kitchen, Wanda lazily floating various sacks of flour and snapping eggs cleanly in half with tendrils of chaos magic floating around. "Stand back, boys."

"Leave it to the pros," Natasha said, her cheeks tinted light pink.

"Wait..." Tony said slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Do you not know how to cook waffles?"

"Do you?" she shot back.

"No, but that doesn't matter. I don't need to."

"This is the prime example of why parents should teach all their children how to do basic things. I wouldn't be surprised if one day you won't even be able to brush your teeth on your own."

"Here, Nat, I'll teach you," Wanda interrupted, dropping all the ingredients and placing her hands over Natasha's and guiding her. The smallest of smiles appeared on her lips, and Natasha looked somewhat happy. It was a change that Steve was glad to welcome, and by the looks of it, so was Bucky.

  
Barely eight minutes later, they were all seated at the island on bar stools, crunching on Wanda and Natasha's surprisingly nice waffles.

"Alright, Maximoff, I gotta give this to you. These aren't bad." Tony mumbled grudgingly.

"I'll be running a cooking class soon," Wanda said sharply, "and you'll be there. Whether you like it or not."

"Or someone can hack JARVIS so that he makes sure you can't get delivery, Tony. And we'll take care of making sure that no one else cooks for you either." Natasha gave him a saccharine smile. "It's always a pleasure."

Steve saw Bucky glance at everyone through the corner of his eye, smiling at everyone else's terrible jokes. Steve was practically flying. He couldn't stop grinning every time he glanced at Bucky, entwining their hands fondly. He knew Bucky wasn't fully healed, maybe he never would be. He didn't care; for now Bucky was safe with him.

Until HYDRA made them place another move on the chessboard.

It was only so long until that happened. The shadow loomed over them, an ever hulking presence ready to strike. They held the all power in their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I just realised that title sounds low-key halloween... well let's hope Biden wins the election!! (I think I passed my tests, so... that's good) we're getting near the end guys! ^v^ That emoji right there took me about 30 seconds to figure out how to make it. Oops.


	22. The Shining Light

Steve and Bucky both spent their hours together pondering things to do. Now the illusion of so much time on their hands weighed on their shoulders, so Steve decided to pursue his dream of art. Bucky lay on his stomach next to Steve, watching him as he absent-mindedly sketched the New York skyline ahead of them.

"Ah, I wish I could draw as well as you, Stevie," he sighed, rolling onto his back. "How do you stay in one position for more than thirty seconds?"

"You'd be surprised, Buck," Steve said, a smile curling the edge of his mouth.

"Maybe if you stayed still, I could draw you properly."

"Wait, you have already?" Bucky sat up in surprise. He tried to say something but instead his mouth remained open in shock.

Steve rolled his eyes. "You think I wouldn't have?" He tried not to say anything stupid.

Bucky was blinking rapidly. "Oh," he said finally. "I didn't know that." His face broke into a tentative smile. Steve crawled over to him, wrapping his arms around him, burying his face in Bucky's neck. Bucky closed his eyes.

"You know, this is nice, Stevie. Not having to do too much right now." Steve nodded silently.

"Well..." he began. "We do have to figure out a plan." Bucky groaned. "Stevie, you had to ruin the moment."

"I'm sorry!" he chuckled. "You know it's true though."

"Yeah..." Bucky said grudgingly.

"How about we go for a walk?"

"So healthy," he huffed indignantly. "Fine."

Steve and Bucky strode briskly through Central Park after jogging there as inconspicuously as they could.

"The cap suits you, Buck," Steve beamed.

"Ha ha." He scowled. "Why did we have to dress up so much you'd think it's snowing? It's actually hot, Stevie," Bucky complained.

"Because, uh, it's good for our disguise?"

"We look like us but in Christmas time. Or like we're about to go skiing."

"If you want I can draw you some sort of winter scene," Steve replied cheerfully.

"Why?" Bucky grumbled. "What goes through your mind?"

"Not enough, apparently." Steve's voice took on a darker tone. "I still haven't thought of a plan. Some genius."

"Stark's the genius."

"Yeah but I'm meant to be good at this stuff!" He kicked a stone that was lying in his path innocently.

"Come on," Bucky soothed, gently leading him by the arm to a copse of trees away where other people were scarce, blossoms drifting on the wind delicately, dancing through the air. They sat down on the soft grass, Steve glaring at the lake sparkling in front of them, clear as glass. "No reason to sulk, darling." Steve slowly pulled out his sketchbook and a pencil, squinting at Bucky.

"Can you stay like that for a bit, Buck?"

"Uh, sure?" he said, puzzled but realised Steve planned to draw him. Instead, he brushed himself up and puffed his chest out. "This better be my best angle."

"You look good from every way possible," Steve said adoringly. Another one of those smiles that Steve treasured lit up his features.

"Thanks, Stevie," he whispered. Peaceful silence emptied into the air, descending upon them light as a feather. They were sitting in a comfortable aura, happiness radiating from either of the super soldiers. Of course things couldn't stay normal for long. "Hey Steve," Bucky started slowly.

"Mm?" Barely looking up from his paper, Steve acknowledged him.

"Is that something to worry about?" Finally glancing away from the sketchbook, Steve followed Bucky's finger, which was pointing towards a strange shimmer that glimmered ominously on the air. It didn't look dangerous, but having experience, both looked towards each other, nodding the slightest. Steve slid a hand into his backpack discreetly to where he always kept a gun stored for emergencies. He wished nothing would cause him to have it. Bucky grimly gripped the handle of a sheathed knife in a hidden pocket inside his jacket. "Should we go check it out? It might just be the light."

"I don't think so," Steve whispered, observing carefully as the shine grew stronger. They stalked over towards where it was, a several paces just tucked behind a large oak. Their movements were synchronised as one, naturally falling into defensive positions to cover each other. A small seed of doubt and hesitation that had planted itself inside Steve's heart began to spread its roots, playing on his fears of HYDRA catching up to them.

After a few moments, they soundlessly were only a couple steps away from the gleam, which had nearly solidified. It was rippling, the surface not quite corporeal. Light seemed to both reflect and seep into the crack in the air. Steve held up three fingers, popping them down one by one. After the last one was down, they both leapt out from the trunk of the tree they were crouched behind and drew their weapons to see a hand stretch out of the gap.

Bucky tensed, and was about to lunge forward and probably slice and dice that hand into ribbons before Steve pushed him back with a hand. "Wait." For what seemed like an eternity, the hand pulled out of the portal (that was what it appeared to be) and was followed by an arm. Bucky's eyes narrowed and Steve frowned.

They stepped back a safe distance to find a figure stepping out of the portal. They were haloed in light and it was almost impossible to render who it was. Bucky's expression morphed into gaping shock. It was someone who he knew better than himself.

"S-Steve?" he stuttered, almost crying out. He whipped around to see _his_ Steve staring at him, his face flickering in complex emotions that Bucky couldn't read.

"Wh-what?"

The figure took a step forward.

"Bucky." His eyebrows pulled together. The figure nodded to Steve. "Steve."

"Who-who are you?" Steve stammered. The figure walked forward, while the pair of them pushed back. Finally they were in a pool of light spilling onto them, revealing... Steve. But he looked... different. 

"I'm you." Steve couldn't say anything. His tongue was tied and his brain turned to mush, not able to comprehend a thing.

"Hello, Stevie," said a familiar voice. Another figure moved out of the portal, coming to stop beside his... future self.

"B-Bucky?" he squeaked.

"Yes, you're still alive." he said drily to the Bucky standing next to him who was blinking, and not moving an inch. "We're here to save you."

"This is HYDRA!" Bucky exclaimed, finding words again.

"We're not here to hurt you," future Steve said carefully. In unison, they held their hands up. Steve remembered he had a gun in his hand. Examining them both closely, he noticed they looked older than him and Bucky. "We're here to fix everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably last chapter next week!! thanks for sticking with me guys :D <3


	23. Stars

"So who are you?" Bucky growled, hefting his knife. "If this isn't HYDRA's doing, then-"

"Calm down, Bucky," Steve soothed, not taking his eyes off the people standing in front of him for one moment. "We'd like an explanation."

"As we said, we're you," the Older Steve said sympathetically. "We get you aren't quite ready to fully grasp the concept of what's happening. But we told you, we're here to help."

"HYDRA doesn't exist in our world anymore," said Older Bucky. "We stopped them. You're wondering why they haven't at least checked in by sending you some sort of coded message, right?" He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "We did you a favour with that. Now they can't track you."

"And?" Bucky prompted. 

"That means we can finish them off," replied Older Steve. Both of them kept their hands raised in the air.

"How old are you guys exactly?" Steve asked suspiciously. 

"131," Older Bucky grinned. "We're not dead yet."

His younger counterpart stared thoughtfully at his left hand, which was above his head. "Mmhm," he mumbled. Older Bucky winked at him.

"Honestly, you guys can just relax while we take down HYDRA." 

Steve narrowed his eyes. "That does sound a little untrustworthy," he muttered under his breath to Bucky beside him.

"We just want revenge." he implored.

"Again," Bucky murmured. "You said you already eliminated them. How can we trust you?"

"Well, firstly, you call Steve 'Stevie' and secondly, you used to sleep together before the war so you could conserve body heat 'cause Steve always got sick." Older Bucky said calmly.

Steve tried to keep a poker face to conceal his surprise.

"We're really you. You can trust us." Older Steve said softly.

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance. 

"Do you think we should let them?" Bucky whispered.

"I think so. And if they are with HYDRA, we'll rally the Avengers. And if they do what they say, it's a bonus for us." 

Bucky scowled. "Fine. Do what you want. Kill them all. But I want proof they're really gone. I want you to bring me Karpov. Alive."

Their future selves nodded to each other, seeming to communicate without speaking. 

"We'll be done in a couple of days."

"How will we know?" Steve called out before they turned away.

"We'll call you." Older Bucky said simply.

With that, they stepped back into the portal, the golden mass of light slowly closing in on itself.

"I don't like this," Bucky sighed. "I feel almost worse."

"I know, Buck. If it all goes to hell then we'll stop them. Surely we can beat some people who're 130 years old, right?"

"Yeah." He tucked his knife away, leaning into Steve's embrace. He planted a kiss on his head, enveloping Bucky in his arms and holding him close. "I love you, Steve."

"I love you too." Bucky tilted his chin so he was face to face with Steve, afternoon sun gilding the planes of his face, making his skin shimmer. He smiled and pulled down Steve's head so he could plant a slow, languid kiss on his lips. He hummed pleasantly, his mouth silky soft and sweeter than sugar. Steve had to break away, a grin stretching across his face preventing him from holding the kiss. 

"You punk, Stevie," Bucky laughed. 

"Such a jerk." Bucky slipped his hand into Steve's, feeling his mind slightly lighter than before, the heavy weight a little less. 

"Come on."

  
Steve couldn't sleep that night. Bucky was right next to him-in fact, he was pressed right up against him, snuggling into his back. But he couldn't relax-there were two other intruders in their world, who looked almost exactly the same, bar a few extra lines around their eyes that weren't on his and Bucky's faces. But someone who wore their features were snooping around. Although with permission, it still felt as though they weren't quite safe, even though they were doing something that should have made him feel at ease.

He would only rest when their future selves disappeared from the barrier separating the worlds. And HYDRA with them. Only then would both of them be truly free. Endless questions swarmed his mind. How did the portal work? Were they really good? What happened to the both of them in the future? Were they in a time loop? The idea of that made him shudder, and Bucky clung tighter around his waist, wrapping his arms a fraction tighter.

 _You're okay_ , he repeated to himself. _Everything will sort itself out._

Steve slipped into an uneasy sleep, a thin veil spread over him that constantly slid out of place, jerking him awake. For once, Bucky barely stirred beside him. Steve was glad that he could rest.

A day dragged past. Steve tried to occupy himself with beating up punching bags and furiously drawing out his worries onto the paper, as though his sketchbook could soak up all his anxiety. It seemed as though time itself was mocking him, purposely slogging on through mud.

_We'll call you._

Steve scoffed as he defined the outline of Bucky's hand a little more so it was bolder. Why did they have to be so mysterious? Bucky nudged his leg with his foot.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" Bucky prodded. 

"Just worried." He dipped his head, the panic beginning to gnaw at him again.

Bucky leapt down from where he had been lounging on the couch, joining Steve on the beanbag he was lying across. 

"Hey," he said softly. "It'll be alright. I'm gonna keep you safe, Steve." He placed his hand over Steve's, glancing into his eyes and smiling. "Everything's gonna be fine. I promise."

A soft shimmering sound came from the corner of the room, coincidentally on time. "Would ya look at that. Perfect." Bucky sprang up, offering a hand to Steve. He unconsciously squared his shoulders, suddenly aware of how messy their lounge room was. There was unfinished sketches strewn across the coffee table, and a few half painted canvases. Bucky had a growing collection of science fiction novels piled up, precariously balancing next to the couch. It didn't exactly look professional, and Steve didn't want Karpov to see the life he and Bucky had built in the time they had been half-freed of him.

Considering the time it had taken for the portal to become fully corporeal last time, Steve rushed around, throwing things out of the way that the slimy monster didn't deserve to see. Bucky joined him. He desperately longed to wear something that looked a little more threatening and professional rather than Bucky's hoodie and some sweat pants. In the back of his mind, he wished he wore the Captain America suit (not the HYDRA one) to bed so he would be prepared for any time that the unwelcome visitors arrived.

He settled for standing menacingly, his arms crossed over his chest and the gun that was hidden under a pile of newspapers tucked in his pocket, should he have to use it. Bucky was already flipping his knife, a grim expression settled on his face. He fixed an imposing look on his features, screwing them into something that looked murderous. 

Finally, after what seemed like a millennia, the portal yawned open to reveal a bound body, its head covered in a sack, toppling out gracelessly. Older Steve and Bucky stepped through, brushing themselves off and shooting the body a distasteful stare. 

"HYDRA is gone," Older Bucky said in a gravelly tone. "It was our pleasure."

"He's all yours," Older Steve said, flashing the body a disgusted look. "Thank you for letting us do that."

Steve inclined his head. "I hope I never see you again."

"Me too," Bucky jumped in. "That'll mean that everything's sorted in our universe. And yours, hopefully."

Both of them grinned darkly. "Agreed." Older Bucky lifted his partner's hand, something on his finger glinting in the light.

"Enjoy." With a soft whoosh, they walked through the portal, sparks sinking into the carpet behind them.

Steve and Bucky hauled the body- which twitched as it banged against the numerous cupboards they made no effort to avoid -to the spare room which neither of them used. Steve jogged back to grab a plain chair and extra rope stored in a closet, and wrapped them around the body, which was now thrashing. Bucky looked over to Steve for confirmation. He bowed his head sharply.

Bucky whipped off the sack. Karpov gasped in air desperately, and immediately, as soon as his eyes landed on Steve and Bucky, he snarled like a wild animal.

"Release me now," he growled. "You will regret this!"

"No." Bucky said quietly. "You're gonna feel every bit of pain that you gave me, Мудак. I can promise you that much. I'm not gonna regret it." He stepped forward. Karpov visibly shrank. "I can tell you that your training _sure_ paid off." He spared a glance at his knife. "I wonder how creative someone can get with this." Crouching down, he pressed the point into Karpov's throat. "You'll see just how cold I can get."

  
"Bucky," Steve breathed, falling into his arms. Together they watched the skyline slowly grow dimmer, the faint twinkle of stars up above.

"I really like the stars, you know Stevie?" Bucky murmured. "They're always there. Even when you can't see them. Something grounded."

"They're not really grounded, Buck," Steve reminded him, earning himself a short chuckle.

"I know." Steve gazed as slowly, more and more stars winked to life, dotting among the blank canvas of the night sky, the moon making its slow rise above the dashing clouds. He turned to see Bucky watching his awe. "But honestly, I think you could beat stars anytime, Steve." They leant into each other's deep kiss. Now they had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I was going to make this end a lot darker. It was originally going to have Steve and Bucky butcher everyone but I decided that was way to much. But anyway, thank you all so much for sticking to the end! I really enjoyed writing this book through all its ups and downs. Please tell me what you think and kudos!
> 
> Also, some of you may have noticed that yesterday I published The Stucky Essay. PLEASE go check it out, it took ages to complete! It's worth it, don't worry. Thank you all again! <3


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